To Save An Angel
by lucytiger
Summary: AU Dean is a policeman and Castiel works at a diner close to the precinct. Castiel is in an violent relationship and Dean tries hard to save him from it, whilst falling for the abused man in the process. Abused Cas so lots of hurtcas and definitely destiel. Review!
1. Chapter 1

_{A.N. Hey guys new story! I'm still updating Burnt Wings & Broken Dreams but I'm kind of having a real Destiel moment and that story doesn't have any in it - it's more of a canon based story. So I thought I'd do a super AU one. I love the idea of Dean being a cop, I think it's like the closest real world occupation to hunting. So yeah, it's not Beta-ed so all mistakes are mine, feel free to let me know haha! But hope you like it!}_

**Chapter 1**

Dean Winchester walked past the same diner everyday on his way to work. He lived two blocks from the precinct, the diner stood on the corner of 5th and Michigan Avenue, and the police station was on the corner of 4th and Michigan. Every morning he'd walk past the windows to see the same situation. A couple guys from the station were in there, tormenting the poor guy that ran it. He shook his head in disbelief as he saw one, his lieutenant, Zachariah, grab the waiter's arm as he walked past. It jerked the waiter to a standstill and Zachariah said something to him before roughly letting him go.

Dean sighed in disapproval and kept walking. He loved his job as a detective but there were still a bunch of people on the force that remembered the old days and liked them. Dean wasn't a stickler for rules, but he didn't see the amusement in hurting an innocent person on purpose. He supposed he'd already witnessed and had been the victim of mistreatment in the past – it came with the territory of being a gay cop. He'd been hazed brutally at the academy but had still managed to graduate with flying colours and be promoted to plainclothes detective in record time.

As he passed the second set of windows he looked in again and saw the unfortunate waiter walk past the booth full of Dean's so called workmates and see Uriel, the big African American who partnered with Crowley, the third in their group, slap the waiter on the butt. Dean knew from experience that Uriel hit hard and the fact was made abundantly clear when the blow caused the waiter to fall to his hands and knees. Dean stopped in his tracks debating his next move.

When he saw Uriel pull the waiter back on his feet with a huge meaty hand wrapped around the waiter's slim upper arm, his decision was made. He stalked back to the front door and opened it, the bell ringing. The group of cops and the waiter were the only people in the diner and they all turned to see him walk in.

"Hey Winchester, what the hell are you doing here?" Zachariah asked, leaning back in the booth and taking a sip of his coffee to prove he was completely at ease in the situation.

"You don't come in here," Uriel stated, his hand still holding the waiter's arm. "If he did, you'd be in trouble," he added to the waiter.

Dean took that moment to fully study the waiter in Uriel's grasp. He was shorter than Dean and much slighter, his dark hair was in an unruly mess, and, despite the fact that one was encircled in a fresh bruise, his eyes almost took Dean's breath away. They were the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. And right now they were staring at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in their depths: pain, anger, fear. And hope.

"Uriel, why don't you let him go?" Dean asked calmly walking up so that he stood opposite the waiter next to Uriel's booth.

"Why? You want him all for yourself?" Crowley cooed sarcastically.

"Shut your hole, Crowley. Uriel, let the man go," Dean said, forcing as much authority into his voice as possible.

Zachariah drained his coffee cup and, instead of placing it back on the saucer he dropped it on the floor, the sound of the cup breaking making the waiter flinch. "Let's get out of here, boys, I think Winchester wants some alone time with our favourite waiter," he said.

Crowley and Zachariah got out from their side of the bench and Uriel jerked the waiter's arm out of his grip and stood up too. The three of them walked past Dean, Zachariah didn't even look at him, Crowley glared at him and Uriel brushed past him but at the ring of the bell at the door, they were gone. Dean turned back to the waiter who was watching them walk past the windows, rubbing his arm where Uriel had grabbed him.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.

The waiter looked up at him and quickly started to clean up the mess the three men had left him. "I'm fine," he replied, in almost a whisper.

Dean crouched down and started picking up the pieces of the broken coffee cup and placing them carefully in his hand.

"Please, I'll do that," the waiter said, hurrying to deposit the crockery he collected into the sink and rushing back to where Dean stood with all the pieces in his hand.

"Just tell me where to put this," Dean said gently.

"Here," the waiter replied, holding out his own cupped hands. Dean sighed and cautiously deposited the broken pieces into the waiter's hands, their fingers brushing momentarily. The contact caused the waiter to inhale sharply and he looked up into Dean's hazel-green eyes for a split second before his gaze lowered once more to the floor and he walked behind the counter, dropping the pieces into the bin.

"My name's Dean. Dean Winchester. I work at the police station down the road," Dean offered, walking up the counter and leaning against it. He watched the waiter wash the used coffee cups vigorously and leave them to drain next to the sink. He wasn't sure if the waiter was even going to acknowledge his statement. He was about to turn and leave when he heard the waiter exhale softly.

"Castiel Novak," the reply finally came.

"Castiel," Dean repeated, trying out the interesting name. "Well, if you ever need help with those guys, call me, alright?" He pulled out his business card and offered it to Castiel.

The waiter approached him tentatively and hesitantly plucked the business card out of Dean's hand. It was then that Dean noticed his bruised knuckles.

"What happened here?" he asked, keeping the accusatory tone out of his voice.

Castiel quickly withdrew his hand and placed it and the business card into the front pocket of his apron. "N-nothing. I was clumsy, fell down."

"Is that how you got the black eye?" Dean asked, keeping his voice calm and steady. It was at this moment that he noticed Castiel's split lip. "And the busted lip?"

Castiel reached up with delicate fingers to gingerly touch the red cut on his lip. "Uh…yeah, I guess so," he replied. "You…you should go now. Thank you for before, but…but I need to get things ready for the lunch rush."

"Okay," Dean said, pushing off the diner's counter. "But you call me if anything happens alright. Anytime. I work one block that way and live two blocks the other way. I can get here pretty quick. Remember that okay, Cas? I can call you that yeah?"

Castiel didn't say anything but nodded his consent and turned back to the counter, pulling up a rag to start cleaning. Dean sighed and walked back out the door, the bell dinging as it opened and closed. When he walked past the windows again he chanced a glimpse back inside to see Cas watching him walk off.

Dean really did hope that Castiel would call him. He'd seen enough domestics to know exactly what was going on. The man was in a relationship that clearly was only working for one person, and that person wasn't Cas. But Dean couldn't very well help him without proof, and he couldn't help Cas if Cas didn't want to help himself. Dean sighed again, it was going to be a long day.

* * *

At ten o'clock that night Castiel was finally closing up the diner. The last few customers had just left and he'd locked the front door and pulled down the blinds on the door and windows so he could start cleaning. He truly was thankful for Dean Winchester that morning. That altercation was tame compared to other mornings alone with Crowley, Zachariah and Uriel. He didn't understand the unbridled hatred they had for him. If they disliked him so much, why didn't they just go to another diner for breakfast and coffee?

He angrily wiped at the tables, wincing as the movement made the dark bruise on his arm throb even more. He'd already looked at it a couple hours ago. Alastair was going to be mad that someone else had made a mark on him. A steady knock at the door made him jump. Speak of the devil…He took a deep breath and unlocked the door to come face to face with the older man.

"Castiel," Alastair murmured, winding a hand around the smaller man's waist and closing the door behind them. "How was your day?" he asked, locking the door. The sound made Cas swallow nervously.

"It was…good, Alastair," Cas said, trying not to cringe when the other man kissed his neck. "How…how was yours?"

"Crap," Alastair replied and Castiel froze.

"W-why?"

"Because the health inspectors want to look at this dump, day after tomorrow," Alastair replied, and Cas's insides twisted. "But I'm sure you can get it all nice and clean for them right?"

Cas nodded without hesitation, he didn't need to anger Alastair anymore.

"Are you done down here?" Alastair asked, gesturing to the tables.

"A-almost, if you go upstairs, I'll be right up, alright?"

Alastair's hand moved from Castiel's waist up to the back of his neck and he squeezed, forcing Cas's head backwards so that the smaller man was looking up at Alastair. "Don't be long," he said before harshly letting him go. With that, he stalked to the back of the restaurant, to the door marked 'Staff Only', through it and upstairs to their shared apartment.

Cas let out the breath he'd been holding and rubbed the back of his neck unhappily. There'd be more bruises there tomorrow. More ammunition for Zachariah and his cronies to taunt him about. He quickly finished cleaning the tables, put the sponge back next to the sink, hung up his apron and switched off the lights. Then, after taking a deep breath, he ascended the stairs, head hung low.

_{A.N. Hey guys hit review! Tell me what you think!}_


	2. Chapter 2

_{A.N. Hey thanks a bunch for all the reviews! I totally didn't think it would get so many for the first chapter! Even a ridiculously short one! I know this one doesn't have a whole heap of action but I still just wanted to set up the scene and the characters and have a hectic cliffy at the end! MariMagda: I know it seems strange doesn't it? But trust me there is a reason Zachariah, Crowley and Uriel are such dicks, you will soon find out! Gustin azza: Dean will always save him! But Cas has to want to be saved...MyUnlikelyHero: That's an interesting pairing, and I do have some ideas you might like for past ex's and the like. Friggin' Team Free Will: Yeah I figure being a cop is pretty close to being a hunter, "saving people, hunting things" might indeed be a family business! PartySpaz09: Here is more!}_

**Chapter 2**

The next morning, Castiel Novak dragged himself from the double bed. He thanked every god in existence for Alastair having already left for the day – he worked as a lawyer a few blocks away on 8th Street and always left early for work, he was so driven by greed. It was what had made him buy the diner and the apartment above it in the first place. Castiel had been working there for years and renting the apartment upstairs before Alastair bought it and the older man had practically bought Castiel along with it. He paid Castiel well for his day in, day out work in the diner and didn't charge him rent but he ruled with an iron fist.

A fist that had left new bruises on Cas's cheekbone and jaw. Cas had gamely refused sex that night and Alastair's reply had been a punch across the face which sent him to the floor and a few well-aimed kicks to Castiel's midsection. Cas walked stiffly into the bathroom and turned on the light and sighed. How was he supposed to explain away his face to his customers? What if Dean came back in and started asking questions again?

He carefully peeled off his t-shirt and grimaced at the new bruises covering his ribs. He'd have to be mindful at work today so as not to make them worse. It was hard enough pleasing Alastair when he wasn't black and blue. He had a quick shower and got dressed, a white shirt and black jeans would do, he decided.

Cas was just unlocking the door when Anna arrived. She worked as the cook most days, and on her days off, Cas just did everything and fell into bed exhausted. When the redhead caught a look at Castiel's face, her own smile vanished.

"Cas, what happened to your face?" she asked, reaching a hand up to gently touch the bruises on his eye, cheekbone and jaw. He tried not to wince at her ministrations and turned away, her hand dropping.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he said, moving to the counter to grab the bowls of sugar and creamers and placing one of each on the tables.

She grabbed his arm to stop him but unfortunately it was almost in the exact same spot where Uriel had seized him the day before and he dropped the bowl of creamers, the bowl breaking and the little tubs of half'n'half spilling out onto the floor. He gasped and brushed her hand away, crouching down to once again pick up the broken pieces of the bowl. An errant thought passed through his mind, _Alastair is going to kill me if I keep breaking his crockery_, and he shivered at the notion.

"Castiel, please, tell me what is going on?" Anna pleaded with her friend.

Sure, she'd seen the bruises before but whatever was happening seemed to be having a cumulative effect on her workmate. If Castiel had been fairly timid when she'd met him, over the last few years he had grown despondent and practically subservient and submissive. Her friend just shook his head firmly, picked up the rest of the broken porcelain and dropped them in the trash, leaving Anna standing alone.

She huffed out an angry breath and grabbed her apron. As she was starting up the kitchen, getting hotplates warm and pulling out cartons of eggs, Castiel set up the tables. He placed a bowl of sugar and a bowl of creamers on each, along with a napkin holder and a basket full of knives, forks and spoons. Alastair didn't approve of the help-yourself attitude Cas had to setting the tables but if he was only going to hire two people to work in the diner, Castiel didn't have time to be handing out cutlery when and where it was needed. Just as he was putting the cutlery and napkins onto the last booth in the back corner, the bell above the door rang out. He looked at his scratched old watch; it was only just eight o'clock. He was about to yell out 'closed' when he turned and saw who it was.

"Dean?"

The detective was wearing jeans, a plaid shirt and a leather jacket and, if Castiel was being really honest, he looked ridiculously hot. He was pretty sure that expression was plastered all over his face so he turned back around and quickly walked behind the counter.

"We're…uh, not really open yet," Anna called grumpily from the kitchen; she really wasn't a morning person.

"It's okay, Anna, I've got it," Castiel said. "What're you after?" he asked Dean, keeping his head down so his new bruises wouldn't be seen.

Unfortunately they were the first thing Dean had noticed when he'd walked in, but he kept his mouth shut about them. "Just coffee if you've got it going, please. Black."

Castiel nodded and proceeded to fill up the percolator with water, coffee grounds and then switched it on. Silence reigned in the diner, with the exception of the coffee drip, and Anna banging things around in the kitchen.

"Do those guys come in every morning?" Dean asked, fishing for information. It was one of the reasons he was here so early. If he could act as a deterrent then that would be one free act of kindness for the day.

"What day's today?" Castiel inquired absentmindedly as he watched coffee jug fill up. He pulled out a cup and saucer.

"Friday."

"No, today's the one day they don't come in," Castiel said, looking up at Dean with a smile. The authenticity of his smile was so overpowering to Dean it almost cancelled out the black and blue marks on his face, but as soon as that thought crossed his mind, Cas noticed him taking in the bruises and dropped his gaze again.

"Hey, you don't need to hide them from me, Cas," Dean said softly. He reached over the counter towards Castiel but the other man shrank back from his hand.

"Don't," Cas murmured. "Please…don't come near me. I…I don't like people touching me."

Dean held up his hands in a soothing gesture. "It's okay, I didn't mean anything by it."

At that point, Anna stuck her head out of the door that led into the kitchen, the look on her face was obvious. Cas sighed and turned towards her. "I'm fine. Really." Anna nodded and slipped back into the kitchen, tying up her long red hair as she went.

"Cas, please, I just want to help," Dean pressed. "Can you tell me who did that to you?"

"Here's your coffee, Dean, would you like it to go?"

"No I think I'll stay," Dean replied and the coffee was pushed in front of him a little too harshly as a few drops flew out of the cup and onto the saucer. Cas looked up apologetically and Dean could see the fear present in the cobalt blue depths of his eyes but the policeman simply plucked a napkin out of the nearest stainless steel holder, lifted up the cup and placed it back down with the napkin in between the cup and saucer. "Please let me help you, Cas. Was it those guys from the precinct who did it?"

"I don't need your help, Dean," Castiel replied, his tone grew defensive. "And I don't want it."

"Come on, I know what those guys are like. They have that whole boys club mentality. As soon as they see anyone weaker than themselves they pounce." Dean quickly realized what he'd said and started to backtrack. "Not that I think that you're weak, it's just you…you're not as…I don't know…big as them?"

"Nicely done, Dean and no it wasn't them," Castiel snapped back at him.

"Look, just tell me who it was and why it happened, alright? I have a duty of care to the people of this town, I guess, and, well, you're one of them," Dean stammered. "I, uh, can't have the citizens of Lawrence being, uh, mistreated unfairly."

"If I tell you, will you leave it alone? For today at least?" Castiel asked, despairingly.

Dean was surprised he had relented so easily but then Cas didn't strike Dean as someone who would stand up for themselves a hell of a lot. It seemed like he'd had that beaten out of him. Dean nodded in answer to his question and took a sip of his coffee.

"It was…it was my…boyfriend," Cas finally said once he'd decided that there was no turning back. His mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. Of Dean arresting Alastair, of Castiel not pressing charges, because he never would, Alastair beating the living shit out of him, then tossing him out onto the street for the night, if not forever. It wouldn't be the first time he'd slept, shivering and afraid, in the doorway, with blood drying on his face.

Castiel imagined Dean jumping to his feet and running to the precinct to get a warrant signed but the detective's reaction was the complete opposite. He just nodded again and took another gulp of hot, black coffee.

"You two have a fight," Dean stated. It wasn't a question. Castiel nodded. "This isn't the first time he's done this is it?" Castiel shook his head, no. "That black eye and split lip you had yesterday was from him too wasn't it?" Castiel nodded again. "And now I'd hazard a guess that you've got bruises all up and down your left side."

At that Castiel looked up sharply. "H-how did you know that?"

"I can tell by the way you're favouring it," Dean said. "You're only stretching out your right arm; you're not carrying anything heavy in your left hand. Even the way you're leaning on the counter all points to being pretty black and blue right about now. I'm a cop, Cas, I'm meant to be good at picking up on things."

Castiel immediately shifted his position, but the movement pulled on the abused muscles and he winced. He let out a short humourless laugh. "I suppose you're right then. So, what are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, curiously.

"What are you going to do with your newfound knowledge?"

"Well that depends on you, Cas," Dean replied evenly.

Now it was Castiel's turn to ask what the other meant.

"I can't do anything about it by myself," he said. "But I do know one thing. I know what it's like to be in that situation. I know you feel like you can't extricate yourself from it, like you can't escape. I had a boyfriend like that too, a long time ago." Castiel's ears pricked at the mention of the word 'boyfriend' and he immediately chastised himself, what would Alastair think? "I know you feel like there is no way out, but there is. I promise you."

"Dean, you don't understand," Cas said, miserably.

"What don't I understand?"

"I have nothing, without him," Cas started to explain but Dean interrupted.

"It feels like that now but"-

"No, I mean, I will have _nothing _if I leave him. He owns this diner. He owns the apartment I live in," Cas continued, his voice getting softer and softer as he went on until it was almost a whisper when he added, "He owns…he owns _me _Dean. I _can't _leave him."

Dean looked up into Castiel's glassy blue eyes, the unshed tears making them all the more vibrant and Dean understood. He knew the predicament well. He'd seen it a thousand times on the job and he'd been in it himself before. After a beat, Cas tore his eyes away from Dean and busied himself in behind the counter, pulling out all the supplies he'd need for the morning. A couple minutes later, the doorbell rang and in walked an older man who sat in one of the booths.

Cas greeted him by name and told Anna, "Rick wants the usual," before pouring another cup of coffee and setting it down in front of the man. Dean's sharp ears heard the concerned question from the diner's patron and Cas's bullshit excuse for the bruises on his face. But he didn't leave. He asked Castiel for another refill of coffee and a piece of toast and sat up at the counter quietly eating breakfast, watching the goings on. Today was his day off and he would stay here all morning if he had to, make sure Zachariah and his idiot friends didn't come in.

An hour later, Dean saw them walk past the windows. Friday was a busy day for them, Dean knew, it was paperwork day. And since none of them liked doing it, they all _had _to do it. Uriel caught sight of him and whispered in Zachariah's ear. Dean saw Zachariah shrug and the three men continued past the diner and towards the police station. They had to be the worst cops, Dean had ever met; they hardly ever did any of the tedious stuff, like paperwork, they were far more interested in busting petty thieves and drug dealers. And since not much of that happened in Lawrence, a nice little town in Kansas, they spent most of their day on their asses. Or, Dean supposed, victimizing poor Castiel.

When Dean turned back around to face the counter, he saw Castiel watching them cross the road and he let exhaled, relieved. He looked up at Dean who smiled at him.

"Thank you," he said, so softly, Dean almost missed it.

"Anytime," Dean replied.

Dean stayed in the diner for another hour to make sure that Zachariah, Uriel and Crowley didn't make a surprise appearance before laying a twenty dollar note on the table and pushing his chair back. He started walking towards the door when a gentle hand clutched his elbow. He turned to see Cas there, holding his money.

"Dean, this is far too much. Your check is worth $5, if that," Cas said, trying to give Dean his money back.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Cas," Dean said, smiling at the waiter. Every instinct was telling him, it was a bad move, what he was about to say next, considering the guy already had a boyfriend, even if he was obviously a complete asshole, but he said it anyway. "It was worth it. I got to see you smile."

He pressed the money back into Castiel's hand and opened the diner's door, giving Cas a little wave as he left. An awed Castiel walked back to the till and rang up Dean's check. It had come to the grand total of $4.20. He pulled out the change and put the remaining $15.80 into the empty tip jar and smiled to himself.

* * *

At eight-thirty, after the dinner rush had ended, Anna cleaned up the kitchen. She hung her apron on the hook and walked out into the diner. Castiel was busying himself with making sure the countertop was extra clean, seeing as there was only one other customer in the diner, sitting in the corner, staring into his coffee cup.

"You'll be alright?" Anna said, gesturing to the man in the corner. He was a big, beefy guy but he didn't seem to pose any threat.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, Anna," Castiel replied, stopping what he was doing to talk to her. "He comes in all the time, just sits there, drinking coffee."

"You don't _look _fine, Cas," Anna said, eyes moving pointedly to the bruises on his face. He was a good friend to her, and she didn't want to see him get even more hurt than he already was. She was never around when Alastair came by, but if she ever met the guy, she'd beat him to hell and back just for laying one finger on her friend. Cas knew that so he made sure to leave the roster on the back of the door so Alastair knew when the diner closed and when Anna was working or not. Castiel had hired Anna after begging Alastair to let him. He was so exhausted at the end of each day that he was asleep before his head hit the pillow, and that was no fun for Alastair, so he'd finally relented and let Cas hire a cook. He'd never met Anna but he didn't want to purely on principle.

"I'm fine, Anna, I promise," he said. His voice dropped to almost a whisper when he added, "You know I can handle it."

"But…but what if he goes too far, Cas?" Anna whispered back. "What then?"

"Anna, he won't you know that. Anyway, this" – Cas motioned to the bruises –"this was my fault. Not his."

"Cas, you do know how you sound right now?" Anna replied. "What did you do to deserve it then?"

"I'm not going to talk about the details of my relationship with you Anna," Cas said, his voice still a whisper, but a stern one.

"Fine. I'm only trying to help, we all are, Cas, but you don't want it," Anna said angrily. "See you tomorrow." And with that she tugged open the door and slammed it shut, the bell dinging plaintively in response.

Cas sighed and finished what he was doing, moving the bowls of creamer and sugar back off the tables and behind the counter. After that, he put the cutlery and napkins away, making sure to leave everything as is on the table in the corner where the last customer for the night was sitting. As he was neatening up behind the counter, the man stood up and walked over to him.

"Would you like anything else, sir?" Cas said, looking up. But he froze when he saw the Bowie knife in the man's hand.

"Yep. I'd like what's in that till," the man replied darkly.

_{A.N. As I said, HECTIC cliffy. Tell me what you think! And don't worry, already half way through the next chapter!}_


	3. Chapter 3

_{A.N. Okay so I was going to wait until tomorrow to post the next chapter but it was too mean! Here it is! Again thanks for your awesome reviews. The whole idea of Castiel being with Alastair seems to have everyone on their toes!}_

**Chapter 3**

"You…you what, sorry?" Castiel stuttered, his heart starting to pound. He dropped his hand to his back pocket and pulled out his phone. If he could delay this guy, he might be able to get help. He thanked whatever had possessed him to program Dean's mobile number into his phone and speed-dialled him.

Dean had just finished dinner two blocks away in his small apartment when he heard his phone ring. He left the dishes in the sink, wiped his hands on a towel and picked it up, it was an unknown number. He answered anyway and what he heard made his blood run cold.

"I want the money in your goddamn till, is that too hard for you to understand?"

The voice sounded harsh and deep and Dean frowned, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. The man obviously wasn't talking to him and whoever had called him had placed his phone somewhere nearby to where this was happening so that Dean could hear.

"Okay, okay, I'll get it for you, alright?"

The responding voice made Dean hang up. He knew that voice and he knew where he needed to be right now. He jammed his boots back on, grabbed his jacket, keys, gun and police radio and was out the door in minutes, taking the stairs two at a time in his race to get to the street. As he was running he radioed the precinct.

"This is Winchester. Get any available officers down to the diner on the corner of 5th and Michigan. Robbery in progress, I'm on my way now."

"Copy that, Detective, sending officers now."

Dean pocketed the radio and pushed open the front doors of his apartment building and ran out onto the street. He dodged pedestrians in a bid to get to the diner in time. He couldn't let Cas down now.

Meanwhile Cas was trying desperately to keep his heart rate under control as he opened up the till and started to pull the notes out. Apparently he wasn't going fast enough as the man circled around the counter and came to his side, jabbing the knife into Cas's ribs. Cas could feel the tip of the Bowie knife tugging on his shirt, pulling threads loose and he swallowed nervously.

"Faster," the man said, digging the knife in incrementally. The tip tore a hole in the side of Cas's white shirt and came to rest on his bare skin.

"Please, I'm going as fast as I can, where do you want it?" Castiel begged, his hands full of notes.

"Just put it on the counter, I'll get it in a minute," the man replied. Castiel reached forward to put the money on the counter, the movement stretching his injured side, making him grimace.

"Thanks, gorgeous," the man said, twisting the knife slightly so it cut Cas shallowly, making him gasp. The man walked out from behind the counter and started to put the notes calmly into the pockets of his jacket leaving Castiel standing there, shaking, blood from the cut on his side slowly staining his white shirt red. The man turned to leave and Cas felt relief but only for a split second. The man stopped, noticing the tip jar.

"I'll have that too thanks."

Castiel looked up at the tip jar. It only had a few coins and Dean's 20 dollar note from this morning. The robber was just being cruel now. Cas shook his head no and picked up the tip jar, putting it behind the counter.

"I'm sorry, did you not see the massive knife I'm carrying?" the man said. "Give me the rest of the money now."

"No," Cas whispered, backing away from the man and towards the door that led upstairs to the apartment. In three quick strides the man was right in his face and Castiel's throat was grabbed. Cas choked on the meaty hand that held his neck, clawing desperately at it to get some air.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You got a death wish?"

"I…I can't give it…to you," Cas managed to get out.

"Either you're stupid or…no, you're just stupid," the man said and threw Castiel against the counter. Cas struck the edge of the counter with his head and was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"Hey, asshole, turn around and put your hands in the air." The man spun around to see a gun pointed right at him.

"You got a problem hearing what I'm saying?" Dean asked, breathlessly. "Put your goddamn hands in the air!"

The man dropped the Bowie knife. It clattered to the floor and Dean's stomach turned when he saw the tip was bloody.

"Up against the counter. Now," Dean said, his voice growing dark. As he cuffed the man, backup arrived from the station. "Call an ambulance!" Dean shouted to the officers as the would-be thief was dragged away.

"Ambulance is on its way!" came a shout from one of the officers.

Dean nodded and holstered his gun, running to where Castiel lay. He quickly took stock of the injuries he could see. The robber had cut him in the side with his knife, but it wasn't deep, and, despite the blood tinting his shirt, it had already started to clot. His temple was bloody too. Cas had hit the counter hard but until he regained consciousness, if he did, Dean wouldn't know how bad his concussion would be. While waiting for the ambulance, he lifted Castiel up slightly, so that his upper half was resting in Dean's lap. Deep down, Dean knew he shouldn't move him in case there were other injuries, but he couldn't bring himself to just leave Cas lying on the cold, hard floor of the diner.

Thankfully he got the answer to whether or not Cas had a concussion pretty soon. Dean heard a soft groan from his lap and looked down to see Cas's eyes fluttering open.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, hey it's me," Dean said quietly. "I got your call."

"I…saw you hang up…though?" Cas questioned, his voice hoarse.

"I know, I had to, so I could get here quicker," Dean explained, hearing the sirens in the distance.

"You…came to save me," Cas whispered, more to himself than Dean.

"Of course I did, Cas. I'd never just let someone hurt you. I'm only sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Dean replied.

"Don't be…sorry Dean. You got here…that's all that matters," Cas said. He reached up a hand and took Dean's hand in his own. Dean could still feel him shaking from the aftereffects of the robbery. "Thank you."

Dean was letting the moment take him over and was surprised when a loud voice outside made Cas jump in his lap. He turned to see a grey-haired man pushing his way through the crowd of onlookers to the police tape that had been set up. He looked kind of familiar but Dean couldn't place him immediately.

"What the hell is going on here?" the older man shouted again.

Dean heard the police officers trying to calm the man down and make him back off but to no avail.

"I own this establishment. I demand that you let me pass so I can see if my staff are okay!"

The words shook both Dean and Cas to their very cores. This was Cas's boyfriend, Dean thought.

"Please Dean," Cas whispered. "Please don't let him in."

But the man was already past the officers and police tape and was about to enter the diner.

"I can't stop him, Cas. He owns the place," Dean replied sadly. He quickly let go of Castiel's hand, he wouldn't want to make things worse for the poor man. He helped Cas to his feet and supported him as the older man barged up to them.

"Castiel, what the _fuck _is going on here?" he shouted and Cas flinched.

"Whoa, hold on a minute there," Dean said, holding a hand, trying to calm the older man down but it didn't seem to be working, the man was absolutely livid. "Cas was the victim of a robbery," Dean explained. Cas, with his eyes trained meekly on the floor, nodded in agreement.

"Cas?" the older man repeated, frowning at the nickname. "You haven't let me call you that in years. You're gonna let some stranger call you that?"

Dean worked hard to keep the shocked look off his face. Cas had been with this bastard for _years_? Dean had only known him a few minutes and already he knew that he was an A-Grade asshole.

"He's not a stranger, Alastair," Cas said, making sure to keep any defiance out of his voice and his body language. "Dean's a friend."

"Dean, is it?" Alastair turned on the detective. And suddenly Dean remembered where he knew the man from. Alastair had represented a number of criminals over the years and had always made sure to send a death glare the way of the arresting officer which in a few cases had been Dean. "Well, Dean how do you know my Cas?"

Dean didn't miss the fact that he'd referred to Cas as his own, his property, but answered nonetheless. "I'm a detective at the police station down the road. I've stopped in a few times."

"Well nice to meet you then, Dean," Alastair snarled. He grabbed Cas's arm and tugged him towards the door that led upstairs, his actions forcing a cry of pain from Castiel.

"What the hell are you doing, Alastair? He needs to see a doctor," Dean said as Cas was pulled from his arms.

"No, he needs to go upstairs, get some rest. We both do," Alastair smirked at Dean and dragged Cas towards the door again.

"Uh, I think we'll be the judge of that."

Alastair and Dean turned to see two paramedics standing in the diner. Alastair sighed angrily and propelled Castiel towards them, the injured man stumbling. He would have fallen if it weren't for Dean's steady arms catching him. Cas turned to see Alastair going through the door and slamming it without a second look back at them and he let out the breath he'd been holding.

Dean helped Cas to the ambulance where he sat down in the open back doorway of the van while the paramedics looked him over. Dean stood to one side watching how Castiel barely flinched when they cleaned the bloody wound on his temple and the one on his side. He must be used to this, a little voice in Dean's head murmured. The knife wound didn't need any stitches and the paramedics bandaged it, same for the head wound where they placed two butterfly stitches.

He heard Cas tell them he'd fallen down the stairs yesterday as an explanation for the bruises he'd sustained before the robbery. The paramedics exchange a glance but there wasn't anything they could do for him, much like Dean, unless he was willing to press charges on Alastair. Finally when the paramedics were done, Dean walked over. He'd already worked out what he planned to say when the paramedics said the inevitable.

"You don't need a hospital stay," one of them said hesitantly, knowing to whom he was throwing Castiel back to. "But, uh, do you have a place to stay tonight?"

"Yep he does," Dean jumped in. Cas looked up and Dean could once again see those same emotions in his blue eyes: pain, fear, anger but hope seemed to be winning out over the other three.

"Are you sure, Dean?" Cas asked. He never caught any breaks, why would he now?

"Yeah, I'm sure. Hey Tim, would you mind just driving us two blocks that way?" Dean asked one of the paramedics.

"Not a problem. Buckle up."

The two of them got into the back of the ambulance and just as Tim was closing the doors, Cas chanced a look up at the windows of the apartment and froze. Alastair was there, staring down at him. He only saw him for a moment though because suddenly they were off. Cas jerked at the sudden movement and Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"It's alright, I've got you," he murmured gently.

_{A.N. Tell me what you think! Dying to know!}_


	4. Chapter 4

_{A.N. Hey guys thanks so much for all your reviews! If you like where this is at you should check out one of my other fics, Burnt Wings & Broken Dreams, it's not destiel but it's still got lots of hurtCas in it! Kaili Hardman: thanks, yeah I have only seen it a couple of times but I kinda like the complexities that arise from CasAlastair and don't worry there's defs more where this is coming from! shiroiokami: thanks! Glad you like it! Slycat888: thank you so much! There's something about helpless Cas that I really like haha...kat4543: don't worry, am defs continuing. mightyBookworm: no problemo! Guest: I do love a really bad villain and a really good hero! StateOfLoki: ask and you shall receive, here it is! Hope you enjoy.}_

**Chapter 4**

The ambulance dropped Dean and Castiel off at the entrance to Dean's apartment building and Dean took off his jacket and draped it over the other man's shoulders as an icy breeze blew down the street. They took the elevator up to the third floor and Dean pulled out his keys and unlocked the door to Apartment 3C. They stepped into the warm environs of Dean's apartment and Cas couldn't help but check it out curiously.

It wasn't huge but it wasn't cramped either. The living room had what looked like an exceptionally comfy couch in front of a TV leading off to a kitchen at one end and a hallway led to what Cas assumed were Dean's bedroom and a bathroom. Dean led Cas into his bedroom and Cas took in the neat surroundings, big double bed with blue comforter, dark wood furnishings and a stack of books on the bedside table.

"Sit down, make yourself at home," Dean said as he rifled through his wardrobe. Cas did as he was told and waited for Dean to finish. The detective pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants and laid them on the bed. "Here why don't you put these on?"

Cas looked down at his own clothes, his jeans and shirt were stained with his own blood and the tear in his shirt had gotten even larger. He nodded and began to unbutton his shirt.

"I'll just be out there alright?" Dean said, pointing to the couch. "Call if you need anything and the bathroom is right across the hall." And with that, Dean closed over the bedroom door leaving Castiel to his own devices.

Cas finished unbuttoning his shirt and gently shrugged out of it. His bruises were still very tender and the knife wound, although shallow, definitely stung. With a little difficulty he put on the t-shirt and then slipped on the sweat pants, leaving his own clothes in a neat pile on the floor next to the bedside table. He emerged from the bedroom to find Dean drinking from a bottle of beer on the couch, the TV showing the football game but muted. Dean heard Cas and turned around, with a smile.

"Hey, that's better," Dean said. "I would've offered a shower but that would be pretty tricky with those bandages."

"That's alright, Dean," Cas replied quickly. "You've already done so much. How can I repay you?"

"No, don't ask that, Cas," Dean said firmly, making Cas take an involuntary step back. "No, I'm sorry, Cas, don't…what I meant was you shouldn't have to ask that. I'm your friend, of course I'd help you. You don't need to repay me for it."

"Oh…okay," Cas replied, unsure of Dean's words. He stayed standing, awkwardly in the living room before Dean patted the couch next to him.

"Why don't you come sit down, make yourself comfortable?"

"Okay," Cas quickly replied and moved to the couch, making sure to keep distance between himself and Dean.

"Do you want anything?" Dean asked, standing up. "A beer? Have you had dinner yet?"

Cas shook his head no. "I'm fine, really," he said, earnestly just as his stomach let out a rumble.

"Uh-huh," Dean said, sceptically. "Look, _I'm _hungry, so I was going to make a sandwich. How bout I make one for you as well?"

"If that's alright," Cas said softly. "I…I don't want to trouble you, thought."

"Honestly, Cas, it's no trouble. Pretty sure your stomach rumbling would keep me up at night anyway if I didn't feed you," Dean joked, but it had the opposite effect on Castiel.

The other man lowered his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry." Dean sighed sadly and walked back over to the couch, surprising Cas when he crouched on the floor in front of him so that their eyes were level, even though Cas refused to bring his own gaze up from the carpet.

"You don't need to be sorry for that, Cas," he said gently. "You don't need to be sorry for anything."

"Dean, I do," Cas replied dejectedly. "If I wasn't such a screw-up all the time, then Alastair wouldn't have to…" his voice drifted off as he realized what he was about to say.

"Alastair wouldn't have to what, Cas?"

"He wouldn't…have to….to punish me, for all the things I've done wrong," Cas finished, tears springing to his eyes. He finally looked up at Dean and the detective's heart broke when he saw the pain and depression in those cobalt blue eyes as tear slid down Cas's face. "It's my fault. All of this," he said gesturing to himself. "Somehow or another, it's all my fault. It's always been that way."

"No, that's not true Cas, I promise you," Dean said, reaching up to wipe a tear off Castiel's cheek. "You _know _that's not true. That bastard has been feeding you lies this entire time. And to prove it to you, I promise that I will never, _ever _hit you or touch you in a way that you wouldn't like."

Dean's mind went into overdrive. What the hell was he saying? Was he telling Cas, this man that he had only just met really two days ago, that_ h_e would be a better boyfriend than the man Cas was already with? But his words seemed to lighten Castiel's mood, he wiped at his eyes as his stomach rumbled in hunger again.

"How bout I get you that sandwich," Dean said, standing up again, leaving a bewildered but happier Castiel on the couch. Dean quickly pulled out bread, cheese, tomato and ham and went about making sandwiches for the two of them. He was having a hard time figuring out what the hell he was going to do with Cas.

On the one hand, he couldn't legally do anything about the situation Castiel was in, although he made a mental note to call his brother, Sam, who was studying law at Stanford about it. Alastiar owned his workplace _and _his home, and obviously was a complete bastard, abusive and all. But, despite only knowing him briefly, Dean was starting to feel for Castiel. If there was one thing his job had nurtured it was reading people. And Dean was damn good at it. He could tell that Castiel only wanted the best for everyone around him, but that willingness to please coupled with the submissive attitude had made him easy picking for Alastair. The older man basically had a slave in the diner and a slave in his own home. Dean couldn't believe how sick and twisted some people were, but he'd seen it often enough when on call.

Dean came back out into the living room with two plates and handed one to Cas. They ate their very late dinner in silence and, when he'd finished, Dean stood up and grabbed a few blankets.

"I'll take the couch," he said.

"No, that's fine, it's your home," Cas said. "I don't want to be a burden."

"Cas, you are the opposite of a burden, trust me," Dean smiled. "Now, you can have the bed, alright?"

"Alright, Dean," Cas replied resignedly, worried of what he'd have to do in return.

But, to his surprise, Dean just shook out the blankets on the couch, turned off the lights and got comfortable. Cas retreated to the bedroom and did the same.

* * *

Early the next morning Dean shifted on the couch, finding a more comfortable position. Yes, it was a relatively snug couch but it wasn't as good as, say, the bed. He plucked his phone off the coffee table and checked the time, 4:45am. He placed it back down on the table and was about to turn over and get some more rest when he heard some quiet shuffling coming from the bedroom. He willed himself to stay still and keep his breathing steady as he heard quiet footsteps padding down the hall and into the living room. A note was placed delicately on the coffee table before his front door was slowly and quietly unlocked, opened and then closed. Dean sighed and picked up the note.

'Thank you for everything, Dean. I'm sure you understand why I had to leave. See you at the diner soon, x'. Dean crumpled up the note in a burst of anger and then just as quickly as it had risen, the feeling subsided and he carefully unfolded the note again.

He rolled over so he was on his back and looked up at the dark ceiling, picturing Castiel walking gingerly down the stairs so as not to jostle any injuries. He'd wince when he pulled open the heavy front door and then he'd wrap his arms around him as he stepped out into the chilly early morning air. Cas would walk as fast as he could manage down the dark pre-dawn street, Dean knew he wouldn't have the nerve to dawdle when it was so dark and he was alone. He'd probably unlock the diner's front door with his key and then go upstairs and lay down next to Alastair. The anger in Dean built up again. How he hated that man right now on so many levels.

Dean was right on most counts, walking down the stairs did aggravate Cas's wounds so he took them one step at a time, both literally and metaphorically. Because he'd left Dean's clothes in his bedroom, his own torn white shirt was no match for the freezing morning air and he wrapped his arms around his midsection while his teeth started chattering almost immediately. He did indeed hurry down the two blocks that separated him from the diner, not wanting to pause near any dark alleys. Cas pulled his keys out from his pocket and unlocked the diner's front door, closing and locking it behind him. The diner was also bitterly cold, Alastair always turned the heat off at night to save money, even right now in early winter. But Dean's assumption and reality parted ways when Cas got to the door that led upstairs.

He tried the handle. Locked. He pulled his keys out and unlocked the door but when he turned the knob it still wasn't open. The deadbolt, he thought miserably. Alastair had locked him out. He'd done this a couple of times before after they'd had a big fight and Cas would be forced to huddle in the diner, his fingers numb until morning when Alastair would let him upstairs. Tears sprung to his eyes as he slid down to the cold floor.

Why had life given him this problem? He couldn't leave Alastair. If he did, he'd lose his home _and _his job. He couldn't survive without both. But it wasn't likely that he was going to survive much longer _with _Alastair. The man hadn't hospitalised him as yet but he'd been getting angrier and more violent over the last few years. His punches had gotten more frequent and Alastair wasn't even trying to avoid places that would be seen in public anymore.

Maybe he should've stayed at Dean's until morning, he thought. No, then Alastair would be even angrier, he decided. He tried to get into a comfortable position but it was hard. The floor was cold, the wall was cold, his teeth still hadn't stopped chattering and now he had started shivering. He stood up again and grabbed both his and Anna's aprons from their hooks and wrapped himself up in the rough cotton fabric. At least this way he wouldn't get hypothermia, he hoped. But he would still have to face Alastair in the morning and that wasn't going to be pretty.

_{A.N. Poor Cas! Tell me what you think and hit that review button, I LOVE to hear from you!}_


	5. Chapter 5

_{A.N. Oh my god the response to this fic has been huge! Thank you so much everyone for reviewing, it's insanely good incentive for me to keep going and to update so quickly! So keep it up! StateOfLoki: Thanks! I know, I wanted to get a glimpse of some of the unfair abuse Alastair heaps on him, poor Cas. ktravierso: thank you so much for your kind words, I'm literally just writing it down as it occurs to me so I'm interested as to where I take it as well! Slycatt888: won't be much longer...NaniiLovegood: I think everyone just wants to hug Cas haha! Otex: OMG hurtCas stories are, seriously, so good. I'm in love with this whole concept! Friggin' Team Free Will: thanks man! P.S. your username is epic! lovesreidforever: hopefully he gets saved by one Detective Dean Winchester soon!}_

**Chapter 5**

Dean texted Cas at a reasonable hour that morning just to see if he was alright but he received no reply. He walked past the diner on his way to work but it was closed. He walked back during his lunch break. Still closed. On his way home from work he crossed the road and sat down on the bus seat for around half an hour watching the upstairs apartment's windows. The lights were on but the blinds were down so he couldn't see anything.

The diner stayed closed for a week and Dean started to get really worried. He'd texted Castiel a few times that week, harmless innocent message like 'Just checking up on you after the robbery, need to get a statement down at the station when you're up to it', so that if Alastair saw it wouldn't cause any arguments. He hoped.

It had been almost been a week and a half when he finally saw the diner open again. Luckily it was his day off so he decided to spend some time there, make sure Cas was ok. The little bell rang as he opened the door and when he did so he saw Cas straighten up from behind the counter. He looked terrible. His skin was pale and dark circles bordered his deep blue eyes. He seemed to have lost a little weight as well, his cheeks were more hollow than usual.

"Hey, Cas, how are you?" Dean asked, taking a seat on one of the stools at the counter.

"I'm fine," Cas said but broke into a coughing fit so severe that Dean rushed around the counter and gently lowered him to the floor when his knees buckled.

"Cas, what the hell?" Dean asked, causing the other man to flinch as the coughing fit finally abated.

"What…does it…look like?" Cas said, in between gasps for breath. "I'm sick."

"Well, why are you working, if you're so sick?" Dean asked, in disbelief.

"Why do you think?" Cas replied and Dean could tell he was both exhausted and angry.

"Alastair is _making _you work?"

"Of course he is, Dean," Cas said. "I got the whole of last week off because I could barely get out of bed. He wasn't going to let me take another week off."

Castiel got his breathing under control and went to stand up but wavered. Dean caught him gently before he fell. He took a quick look around the diner. It was completely empty of patrons, and was also Anna's day off.

"Why don't you just sit down for a moment?" Dean suggested and Cas nodded in return. Dean helped him over to a booth and gradually lowered him onto the seat and then sat down opposite him.

"How did you get sick?" Dean asked. He almost didn't want to know the answer but Castiel had been keeping this bottled up for some time, he could tell. Maybe if he helped Cas realize that when Alastair was doing was wrong – was abuse – then he might be able to save Cas.

"It was my fault," Cas said wearily, studying his hands so he wouldn't have to look at Dean.

"Please, Cas, tell me how," Dean pressed.

"When I got home from…your place that night, Alastair had…he had locked me out," Cas said, sniffing back tears. He didn't want to look even weaker in front of Dean, if possible.

"Outside?" Dean asked, shocked.

"No, no, just in here," Cas said referring to the diner. "But he turns the thermostat off at night so I may as well have been outside. I was only locked out for a couple hours before he left for the morning but it was enough to make me sick I guess."

"Of course it was enough, Cas, it was freezing last night. And you were injured already," Dean said, shaking his head sadly. "You know this isn't right, you _know _that. Don't you?"

At that Castiel looked up and locked eyes with Dean, his exhausted blue eyes meeting Dean's green ones, so considerate and compassionate. He looked away. He couldn't deal with this. Not now. He was feeling too ill. His head pounded, he was both ravenous and nauseous at the same time and now Dean wanted to have a relationship therapy session.

"Please Dean, just…just leave me be, alright? I'm alive, aren't I?"

"I suppose, Cas. But you're existing. You're not _living. _That bastard isn't letting you," Dean said softly.

"Can you just leave it alone for the moment," Castiel pleaded with the detective, his broken voice shattering Dean's heart. Dean took a deep breath and finally nodded in agreement.

"Do you need any help today?" Dean asked. "It's my day off."

"Monday's normally not too busy, but if you want to stick around that's fine by me," Cas said resignedly.

"Alright," Dean replied, standing up. "I'll be right back."

"What? Where are you going?" Cas asked worriedly, extricating himself from the booth as well.

"Don't worry, I'll be back in a minute," Dean said. "I'm going to get you something."

A visible shudder went through Cas. The last time somebody had 'gotten him something' was when Alastair had pulled out his belt and proceeded to lash him with it one night after he'd talked back. Dean noticed and placed a hand on Cas's shoulder, he was jumping for joy on the inside when the smaller man didn't flinch or cringe like he had done in the past.

"It's okay, it'll be good," Dean assured. "Didn't I promise you I would never hurt you?"

"Yeah," Cas said when he'd found his voice.

"Well trust me, alright?" Dean squeezed his shoulder affectionately and left the diner. He walked back down the street towards his apartment building and the chemist that was on the ground floor there. After buying some painkillers and cold/flu drugs he quickly walked back to the diner to see Castiel tiredly setting up the tables. Dean pulled the brown paper bag out of his pocket.

"What is that?" Cas asked, warily.

"Painkillers and…cold and flu pills," Dean said pulling both pill bottles out of the brown paper and handing them to Cas. "They won't fix it but they'll at least dull the symptoms a bit. I'd suggest taking some of the flu ones first up and then painkillers around lunchtime if you still have a headache."

Cas looked from the drugs back up to Dean, astonished. Alastair had never bought him anything like this, he wanted Cas to suffer through whatever pain and discomfort ailed him. Even when Cas had been hit by a car out the front of the diner and had broken his arm, Alastair hadn't allowed him to take any painkillers once he was back from the hospital. Cas put the drugs down and suddenly, to Dean's surprise, enveloped him in a hug.

"Thank you so much, Dean," he whispered.

Dean patted Cas tenderly on the back, still getting over his surprise. "That's alright, Cas, anytime."

After a moment Cas pulled away from the embrace and poured himself a glass of water and took two flu pills before setting the bottles in one of the drawers under the counter where Alastair wouldn't know to look. When he turned back to the main diner he saw Dean carrying the napkin holders and cutlery baskets to the tables.

"Dean, please, you don't have to do that," he hurriedly said. The last time Alastair had 'helped him out' in the diner he'd received a black eye for his apparent laziness. He didn't think Dean would hit him on purpose, he kept saying, no, _promising_, that he wouldn't. But Alastair had promised him that too.

"It's fine, really, Cas," Dean said. "Anyway, you said Monday wasn't a super busy day. Why don't you just sit down for a little while, let the drugs start working. And make sure to hydrate, don't want you passing out on me."

Another tremor hit Castiel at Dean's words. _Don't want you passing out on me. _He'd lost count of how many times Alastair had said that to him. More often than not, it involved him in a bloody, battered heap on the bedroom floor, trying desperately hard to stop the tears from running down his cheeks. That was another thing Alastair didn't permit in his home. Tears.

"Cas? Cas, you alright?"

Cas was brought abruptly out of his painful reverie by Dean's voice and found himself standing in the middle of the diner, Dean's hands protectively placed on his shoulders and tears inevitably leaving salty tracks down his face.

"I…I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said, hating himself for how weak he must look.

"Cas, you don't need to be sorry," Dean said. "_I do_. What did I say?"

Dean steered Cas gently over to back booth again and brought him a glass of water while the other man calmed down. His current ill-health was wreaking havoc on his emotional control.

"What did I say that upset you?" Dean asked gently, reaching out to softly wipe off Cas's tears with a napkin. Once again, he relished the fact that Castiel not only didn't recoil from his touch but actually leaned into it subconsciously.

"It…it was when you said…not to…not to pass out," Castiel stammered, his voice shaky.

"Oh Cas," Dean murmured, realizing what had triggered him. "Oh God, I'm so sorry." Dean slid around the semi-circular booth so that he was not sitting next to Castiel and not opposite him. "Alastair has said that to you before hasn't he?"

"Yes," Cas whispered. "He hates to see me look weak. Even though he's the one who makes me weak. He doesn't like to see the effect he has on me. He doesn't let me cry. Doesn't let me pass out when he beats me. Doesn't let me take any painkillers for the agony he inflicts with his fists and boots. Doesn't give me time to heal between beatings or...or when he takes advantage of me. He believes I will just bounce back every time. But I don't think I can anymore."

Dean just sat there; shocked into silence at what he was hearing. This was the first time he'd really heard about the abuse meted out on this poor man. This man that he was, despite his best judgement, falling for rapidly.

"Dean?" Cas's soft question brought him back to the present. He looked up at Castiel, studying his deep blue pained eyes. "You said you would never hurt me or touch me in a way I wouldn't like. You promised."

"Yeah, I did, Cas," Dean smiled, lifting his hand up and covering Cas's with it, their fingers intertwining instinctually. "I promise."

"Dean, can…" Cas drifted off for a moment. This was the biggest step he'd ever had to take in the last few years, he'd better be sure about it. After a long moment, he decided that, yes, this was what he wanted. "Dean, can you help me? Help me out of this?"

"Castiel, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to ask me that," Dean said, pulling in Cas for another embrace. Castiel pulled out of it abruptly though.

"But…what should I do, about…about this place? And my home? Where will I go?" he asked, worriedly, his brow furrowing.

"About this place? Well, once we press charges on Alastair, he will go to jail and depending on how it all goes, the diner may be able to be salvaged. As for the apartment, would you really want to stay there, after…everything that's happened?" Dean asked tentatively.

"Where else would I go though?"

"I know a place," Dean said with a smile. His smile grew wide when Cas cocked his head to the side in question. "Mine, silly."

"Oh…would that be alright? It would be for only a little while, until I find my own place again," Cas assured him.

"Cas, you can stay at my home, with me, for as long as you like. I promise," Dean said and without even thinking about what he was doing, leant over and kissed Cas on the top of his unruly mop of dark hair.

Cas gasped and pulled away and it was Dean's turn to apologize profusely but Cas placed a steady finger on his lips and kissed him chastely on the cheek making Dean's heart flip flop in his chest.

"Thank you, Dean."

"Anytime, Cas."

* * *

Dean had stuck around the diner until around 5pm when he got a call from the station. Another detective had called in sick so he was on call for the night. He bid Cas farewell and headed back home, leaving his police radio on and turned up while he made dinner and watched that night's baseball game.

At around midnight it crackled to life and the words he heard rocked him to his very core.

"Detective Winchester, we have reports of a domestic disturbance at 58 Michigan Ave, that's the corner of Michigan Avenue and 5th Street, the apartment above the diner that was held up two weeks ago."

_{A.N. OMG I know. I am the worst kind of person. But don't worry, it will defs get updated soon IF you leave lots of lovely reviews! Go forth and review! Tell me what you think! I must know!}_


	6. Chapter 6

_{A.N. Holy crap. So. Many. Reviews. I wanted to put up a longer chapter but there's a natural pause in the story where I finished it here, but you know me I'll probs post another chapter again tomorrow night (Australian time) anyway to satiate you guys! Thank you again for all the wonderful reviews. I will now attempt to reply to all of them. _

_MarkMeUp: Interesting, I don't know I always tend to think of Dean as being the dominant in a Destiel fic, there's something so adorable about an innocent naive Cas, but yeah, glad you're liking it! kat4543: I know right, if there's something almost as good as hurtdean it's protectivedean for sure. mightyBookworm: I do give you guys horrific cliffhangers (this one isn't too bad) so I feel obliged to update pretty quickly! Slycat888: there's more poor Cas right here! MonsterV: thank you so much! Ask and you shall receive...StateOfLoki: yeah, I kind of am really fucking around with poor Cas here...but everyone likes a bit of abused Cas. Mari Magda: well here's a potentially new boyfriend coming in to save the day (hopefully!) and don't worry Alastair will defs go to hell, but maybe not immediately... aramit: everyone loves hurtCas haha! Guest: there'll be tons of Dean/Cas comfort coming up, don't you worry. . .Yet.: haha awesome! Here is MORE! ktravierso: I know that cliffhanger was seriously horrible, I almost feel bad... Gustin azza: oh he will get his just desserts! Kaili hardman: I know, I am a seriously mean writer haha! syriala: hey thanks a bunch! lovesreidforever: here he is! Otex: awww, thanks man! Here's hoping you don't actually own a pitchfork AND live in Sydney, Australia (which is where I live). transformers001: thank you! Here is more...}_

**Chapter 6**

It seemed to Detective Dean Winchester that the next few moments simultaneously passed by both in a blur of speed and at slow motion. He once again raced out the door grabbing his gun, police badge, radio, handcuffs and keys and ran full pelt down Michigan Avenue. Seconds later he skidded to a halt outside the diner. He could see other uniforms running towards the diner from the direction of the station and breathed a sigh of relief. If he had backup then he wouldn't be tempted to do something he'd regret later.

A teary, shaking Anna was waiting for him inside the diner, mobile phone in her hand. "What happened?" he asked, breathlessly, his nerves frayed beyond belief.

"I…I came back here because I realized I'd left my diary here yesterday and…and when I came in I saw Alastair dragging Cas up those stairs screaming at him about some policeman he was having an affair with. His face was…was already covered in blood like he'd hit him," Anna explained in between sobs. "I've been wanting to call you guys on Alastair for…ages but I had no actual proof."

Despite his mouth having gone dry at Anna's recollection of Alastair accusing Cas of cheating with 'some policeman', Dean summoned up all his strength and nodded in response to her, studying the door and beating his fist on it.

"Open up! Police!" he shouted at the closed door. The other officers ran into the diner and saw Dean preparing to kick in the door.

"Wait, Detective, we don't have a warrant," one of them said.

"Does that even matter?" Anna screamed hysterically. "Alastair is going to kill him if you don't go in there!"

"Fuck getting a warrant," Dean replied angrily, aiming for the lock. In two powerful kicks the door was thrown inwards and was hanging precariously from only one hinge. "I'm going up there, Anna, _stay down here_, okay?" She nodded and he pulled out his gun and badge and raced up the stairs, the other officers following close on his heels. The stairs led him up to another door which he also kicked in, not even bothering to knock.

The scene he was met with would be one he wouldn't forget in a long time. The door opened into the main living room of the upstairs apartment. For a split second he was actually surprised at how big and nicely furnished it was, and then his attention was laser-focused on the two men standing in the centre of the room. Alastair was holding a beaten, bloody Castiel by the collar of his shirt when Dean burst in and threw him down to the floor hatefully.

Cas wasn't wearing a shirt and Dean could see his back was covered in blood. Lacerations, bruises and welts fought for space and criss-crossed over each other and Dean could barely spot a patch of skin that was untouched. Cas landed hard on the floor on his hands and knees with a cry of pain and Alastair threw a leather belt, covered in blood to the floor next to him. Cas was gasping for breath and weeping from the agonizing pain stemming from his back. His face was indeed bloody as Anna had described with the viscous red liquid oozing out his nose, his mouth and from various cuts and wounds.

"Ah, the return of the fearless detective," Alastair boomed out as the uniformed police officers gathered behind Dean's back and took in the horrible display. "I suppose you want your pet back?" he sneered scathingly. "I'm almost done with him." He crouched down next to Cas who whimpered in fear and tried shuffling away from his abuser. Alastair grabbed his throat and shook his head. "Oh, no, you stay right here until I finish teaching you your lesson."

"Get your fucking hands off him now," Dean demanded, surprising himself with the amount of venom and fury in his voice.

"Or what?" Alastair mocked. He stood up, hauling Cas up with him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Castiel screamed in pain as his shredded back suddenly made contact with the rough brick walls. Alastair's hand tightened around his neck and spots appeared in his vision.

"Let him go now, or I swear to God" – Dean strode up to Alastair and placed his cocked gun up against the man's head –"I will blast your fucking brains out you sick son of a bitch."

Alastair sighed dramatically as Castiel's eyes rolled back into his head. "I suppose you've got me then." He opened his hand and Cas crumpled to the floor in a boneless, bloody heap.

"Cuff him. _Now_," Dean ordered the uniforms. Two of them quickly rushed up and cuffed Alastair and dragged him away from Dean. "Call an ambulance!" Dean shouted to the other cops. As Alastair was being heaved out of the apartment and down the stairs, Dean knelt by Castiel's still form. He placed two fingers ever so gently on his neck, almost fearing what he'd find. He let out a relieved breath when he felt a faint heartbeat. "Oh thank god," he breathed. It didn't escape him that this was the second time in as many weeks that he'd been waiting for an ambulance for Cas. But this time, Cas didn't wake up before it got there.

* * *

_One week later. _

The first thing he noticed was an incessant beeping noise. His first thought upon hearing the sound was that he'd better find out what that noise was, and fast, before Alastair beat him black and blue because of it. The next thing he noticed was that the bed he was laying in didn't feel like his bed at home, it seemed stiffer, the sheets smelled different to those he slept in normally, and it seemed to be at a strange, slightly upward angle. The third thing he noticed was that someone was holding his hand.

Castiel slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright white light. When he became accustomed to the glare and looked around himself he suddenly got very, very worried. He was clearly in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines, an IV was trailing out of his arm and oxygen was being pumped into the tube that wound around his nose and ears.

He looked to he left and saw Dean. The detective was the one holding his hand, but he'd also pillowed his arms on Cas's bed, his head was resting on them, and he was sound asleep.

Cas attempted to say the policeman's name but all that came out was a quiet, hoarse, croak. He tried clearing his throat and the movement brought so much pain to that area, tears pricked at his eyes. He tried speaking again.

"Dean," he rasped. "Dean…wake up."

His voice, despite being softer than a whisper and rougher than sandpaper woke the detective immediately. Green eyes met blue and suddenly Dean was crying.

"Oh my god, Cas, you're awake," Dean said softly as tears of both happiness and despair rolled down his face. "I am so sorry, I didn't get there quicker. I ran as fast as I could. But…but you're okay, and that's what matters."

Memories flooded back into Castiel's mind and he looked over to Dean in awe. "You saved me," he whispered. "Again."

"Of course I did, Cas," Dean smiled. "I just wish I'd saved you sooner."

"How long was I out?" Cas asked tentatively.

"The doctors kept you in an induced coma for about five days to let you heal, Alastair banged you up pretty good. You've been unconscious for the last two," Dean said, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"And…" Cas drifted off for a moment, he wasn't sure if he wanted to ask the next question. He summoned up the courage and looked back up at Dean, "and what do the…doctors say?"

Dean took a deep breath. He'd completely broken down when the doctors had first told him Castiel's list of injuries. He'd have to be strong for Cas though. "The lacerations on your back are pretty bad. Some of them had to stitched up they were so deep. Five of your ribs are broken, ten are cracked, and the rest are probably all bruised. You've got a broken collarbone on your right side, your right arm is also broken in two places. You had a severe concussion. And there are…there are signs of rape." Dean's voice cracked on the last word and he cursed himself mentally. He watched Cas take it all in and noticed that he didn't seem all that shocked.

"You don't seem…surprised?" Dean asked.

"No…it's definitely the worst time," Cas admitted sadly. "But no, I'm not really surprised. It's probably the worst thing I've ever done to him."

"What? What are you talking about?" Dean questioned, at a loss as to what Cas was referring to.

"Cheating on him. It's the worst thing I've ever done to him," Cas confessed.

"But we didn't even _do_ anything, Cas, you know there was nothing for him to be angry about," Dean argued gently.

"Yes there was. I told him I was going to leave," Cas said. "And he assumed it was so I could be with you. I didn't see the point in arguing with him, so he just thought it was a done deal. If I'd argued with him it would've have been worse."

"How much more badly could it get?" Dean asked, his voice raising. "You're in hospital with broken bones and he" – Dean stopped himself hallway though so he didn't shout the last part but instead calmly added it –"he raped you, Cas."

At that, Castiel broke down. The tears came streaming out of blackened, bloodshot blue eyes and Dean immediately encased him in an embrace, making sure that he didn't press on or inadvertently bump any injuries.

"Cas, that man, that _bastard_, abused you," Dean said, the words making Castiel shudder in his arms. "He beat you and bullied you and raped you for years. That's not how it's meant to be. That's not what a relationship is. That's not what _love _is. Love shouldn't hurt you like that. If you let me, I can show you what love is."

Dean pulled back slightly so that Cas could look him in the eye. Dean took in Castiel's battered face, the bruises around his eyes, on his cheekbone, on his jaw and wrapped around his neck, the split lip and black stitches on a gash on his temple. Cas studied Dean, how his eyes displayed only kindness, affection and the desire to help him, to respect him and maybe, one day, to love him. He nodded in response to Dean's offer.

"I'd like that, Dean," he said softly. "I'd like that very much."

_{A.N. Awwww, super sweet scene right? THERE WILL BE MORE. If you guys REVIEW, I'll put more up! Tell me your thoughts!}_


	7. Chapter 7

_{A.N. Thanks a bunch for the reviews guys! I'm really loving where this story is going, it's definitely going to keep on truckin' for sure! Got a nice little bit of backstory happening here as well as some definitely ptsd/triggers for poor Cas! But as always, protectiveDean to the rescue!_

_LyricReilly: OMG you're so right! Yeah I'll see if I can get some Alastair-whooping in here somewhere...bani86: thanks you so much! NaniiLoveGood: hmmm, I'm not sure if we can kill off such a mean, nasty villain just yet...Slycat888: thank you and yes, Dean will be a big help, after all, he's got experience remember...Guest: haha yes! MonsterV: Cas could never die! He's too adorable! ktravierso: don't you worry, after a few years of Alastairabuse, Cas will have some hectic ptsd going down, you'll defs find out more about Dean's backstory, but here is some to tide you over. L: he does suffer brilliantly, doesn't he? Not sure if Cas will be able to face Alastair without fear just yet, maybe in a little while though. MyUnlikelyHero: Yes they will! Unfortunately no Sabriel though :( I'm in love with the concept of Destiel, but I can't really imagine the other one. But Sam makes an appearance finally! Otex: haha thanks! Here's more for you! Kaili Hardman: there will be TRIAL, duh duh DUH. lovesreidforever: yeah, I'm sure Dean will be able to do that at some point. Gustin azza: here is more!_

_ALSO MASSIVE AUTHOR'S NOTE RIGHT HERE: I know absolutely nothing about the legal system. Both in Australia and the US, so everything I put in here, I completely made up. But I reckon, it's pretty sound so if it ain't the law then why the hell not?! But yeah, don't flame me for making some legal shit up haha! }_

**Chapter 7**

Three weeks. Castiel had stayed in hospital for the next three weeks while he healed from his injuries. Dean, who hadn't taken a holiday in almost ten years, took the next two months off with pay so he could make sure Cas was alright. The broken arm and collarbone would take around two months to heal, same with his ribs. The lacerations on his back would scar badly but they wouldn't leave any permanent damage.

While in hospital, Dean found out a lot about Cas and vice versa. Anna came in every other day, or when her college courses allowed, to visit, and Dean and her got on well in that they both wanted the best for Castiel. He'd found out that Cas and Anna had met during college in the administration office when she was enrolling and he was dropping out. Cas's father didn't support him, Dean gathered, from the brief explanation given. Balthazar, an ex-boyfriend of Cas's from his college days popped in once or twice, he lived two towns over and they hadn't spoken since before Castiel and Alastair had gotten together. Dean was a little worried about the two of them speaking privately, he didn't want to call it jealousy but that's clearly what it was, but it seemed he had nothing to worry about according to Balthazar who smiled at him when he left saying, "Well, I have to say, dear Cassie did always have a thing for policemen."

Sam, Dean's brother, dropped in a few times. He'd decided to bring his girlfriend, Jessica, out to Lawrence to see their home town on a conveniently placed winter break. The two of them came in and met Castiel, Jess, a nursing major, studying his charts to see how he was progressing and happily telling both Dean and Cas that the patient was well and truly on the road to recovery.

One rainy afternoon, while Jess was chatting to a sleepy Cas, Sam gently tugged Dean out of the hospital room he'd called home for the last three weeks and into the hallway.

"I got your messages last week. I hadn't been able to do a huge amount of research on it yet, but I think I may have found a loophole," Sam said.

"You did?" Dean asked, excited but knowing to keep his voice down.

"Yeah, so I've been speaking with Castiel's doctor about his injuries and apparently had you not broken down the door and 'rescued him' Cas would be dead."

"What?" Dean exclaimed, horrified. He ran a hand through his hair trying to process that thought.

"Those ribs that were broken, one of them had a sharp edge heading straight for Castiel's lung. If you hadn't called the ambulance when you did, or if, Heaven forbid, Alastair had beaten him further, Castiel would have been dead in two hours, give or take," Sam explained. He pulled out a couple papers from his messenger bag. "And according to…this part here…section 42A, 'if the victim is wounded fatally and the decision to proceed without a warrant determines whether or not the victim dies, the absence of a warrant can be waived at the presiding judge's discretion and a formal trial may ensue'."

"So…I'm off the hook for it?" Dean asked.

"Looks like. I've also spoken to Judge Murray, he'll be presiding over the trial which will begin once Cas is healthy enough to testify"-

"Wait, you need Cas to testify? Can't we just go on mine and Anna's witness statements?"

"No, there's a sub-clause to the no-warrant bit which states that the victim must testify against the accused so the jury can understand how dire the circumstances were," Sam clarified.

"Damnit," Dean said softly. "You know what this is going to do to him?"

"Yeah, I know, but he has to do it, otherwise Alastair could walk."

"You're joking, right?"

"Far from it. I'm sorry but he has to, otherwise the case will be thrown out because you didn't have a warrant," Sam said, trying to let his brother down gently. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'm sure you can help him through this. You had to testify yourself, don't forget."

"Sammy, I couldn't forget that even if I tried," Dean said with a humourless laugh. "But I fought back, Cas…Cas just took it. For years. Didn't even try and stop it."

"I'm sure you can help him do it, Dean," Sam assured. "You're already helping him now."

Dean nodded and decided that now was most definitely not the time to tell Cas about testifying. As it was, the trial wouldn't go ahead for another month at least and Alastair would be held in custody without bail until then. There wasn't any way in hell that Dean would let him near Castiel unless he really had to.

"It's going to be hard for him, though," Dean murmured. He studied the man in the hospital bed – the man he was slowly but surely falling for. "It was hard for me."

"I know but look what you did, Michael's now in jail for hurting you. You did the right thing. Now you've just got to convince Castiel to do it too."

"Not now I'm not, that conversation can definitely wait. He's getting released tomorrow you know?"

"That's great, Dean," Sam replied happily. "But…where's he going to stay? The apartment is still a crime scene right?"

"Yeah it is, forensics are still going through everything, now that they've got an actual warrant they're being super thorough. Cas is staying at my place for now," Dean stated to his brother.

"Is that…the best idea?" Sam asked gently. He knew how his brother jumped into relationships and he didn't want to see either of them get hurt.

"Yeah, it is Sammy. He has _nowhere _to go. My apartment is pretty big considering it's so close to downtown and, well, I repeat, he has nowhere else to go," Dean said, sadness tinging his voice. "And I'm happy to put him up. Anyway, enough of this, let's go see how the patient is doing."

* * *

The next day was a hell of a big one for both Dean and Castiel. First they had to check out of the hospital which was always going to take forever, considering the amount of paperwork Cas had to sign with an arm in a sling. Then they stopped by the hospital's chemist with the prescription the doctor had given Cas.

When the painkillers had all been rung up on the till Cas almost fainted at the exorbitant amount of money he'd have to pay for them. First of all, he didn't have anywhere near that much cash in his wallet and secondly, he knew for a fact that Alastair hadn't paid him for his work at the diner in months so his savings account was zeroed out. He was just about to turn to Dean and tell him that he'd be fine without it when Dean handed over a credit card to the clerk.

"Dean, you don't have to pay for them, I can…" Cas trailed off as he realized he didn't have any other options.

"It's fine Cas, what did I promise you again?" Dean said softly back to him with a smile, as the cashier put the sale though. "That I would never hurt you. And restricting your access to painkillers is practically hurting you myself. So, here you go," he finished passing Cas the brown paper bag.

"Thank you," Cas breathed in reply.

At first he had been very unsure of the detective. Dean had seemed too forceful in finding out information about him and about Alastair. But the man was surprising him at every turn. Whilst Alastair had repeatedly promised never to hurt him, the promise had always come with conditions. He'd never hurt Cas _if _he was good that day. He wouldn't beat him _if _Cas didn't talk back to him. Or sometimes, he wouldn't whip Cas with his belt _if _Cas submitted to his will and his wants and desires every night.

But Dean was different. Dean reminded him of Balthazar. He only wanted the best for him. He wanted him to feel safe. Protected. Maybe even loved. But he was also different to Balthazar in a way that was important to Castiel. He remembered how angry Balthazar had been when Cas had told him he was dropping out of college. Balthazar had called him many things that night and had later left voicemails on his phone, apologising profusely for what he'd said. But Cas had refused to take him back. He could only stand so much verbal abuse from the person he loved. Dean was different. He accepted him. Dean accepted and respected the choices he made. Dean could've found a way to arrest Alastair as soon as he'd confirmed with Cas that the bruises on his face were the older man's doing, but he didn't. He waited until Cas had asked for help. He respected Cas. And Castiel didn't think he'd ever met someone, except for maybe Anna, and his brother Gabriel, who really, truly respected him.

Cas's silent contemplation was broken when they reached Dean's car, a shiny black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, or so Dean had told him. It was a little tricky for him to get into the car slowly and gently, but he managed, hiding the wince when his still tender back rested against the black vinyl seat back.

Dean got into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, the big car's engine turning over and rumbling. Dean smiled at the sound and Castiel realized he liked seeing Dean happy. He would find a way, somehow, to repay him for every bit of kindness the detective had shown him recently. Dean drove much more sedately than he usually would through the streets of Lawrence, he didn't want any abrupt stop or swerving corner to aggravate Cas's wounds in any way. Finally he pulled up in front of the diner and cut the engine.

"Do you want to come in? I can get your stuff by myself if you tell me where to look," Dean offered.

But Castiel was already reaching for the door handle awkwardly with his left arm, his right arm currently encased in a cast from wrist to elbow and then in a sling. "It's alright I've got it. I'll need your help though, if that's alright."

"You don't even have to ask Cas," Dean said and was out of the car and helping the battered man to the front door in seconds. Cas pulled out his keys and unlocked the diner's front door. They walked through the dark, empty restaurant to the door at the rear which was still hanging off its hinges thanks to Dean. The stairs were slow going but when they finally reached the top, Cas stopped and turned away from the sight. Dean wrapped him in a hug. He knew what was going through Cas's mind. The walls and floor were still stained with Cas's blood, the forensics guys hadn't cleaned anything up yet even though the crime scene photographer was well and truly finished with the place.

"It's okay, Cas, I've got you," Dean murmured, raising a hand to stroke Castiel's dark unruly hair. "It's okay," he repeated when he felt a tremor go through the smaller man. After a few moments Cas pulled away. His eyes were glassy and slightly red but there was a look of determination on his face instead of fear.

They were quick in the apartment but methodical. Dean had already cleared it with his supervisors so Cas could pretty much take whatever he wanted back to Dean's. He showed Dean where he kept his suitcase and Dean laid it open on the bed before Castiel filled it with all of the clothes he owned, which, as Dean noticed sadly, didn't amount to much. The suitcase was only half-full when Cas was finished and Dean looked at him questionably.

"Is that all?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I sold a lot of things to make ends meet until I got the job at the diner four years ago. Then, after I met Alastair a year later and we…got together, he didn't want me buying a lot of clothes, he said the ones I had were fine," Cas replied simply. After packing his small amount of clothes, Cas brought his toiletries out of the bathroom and packed those, then pulled out a stack of books, mostly novels, but a couple of non-fiction ones too, and placed them in the suitcase as well. Then he asked Dean to reach down a shoebox from the top of his wardrobe. Inside were his most prized possessions. Photographs of Cas with friends in happier times, a trophy for a high school soccer game and, ironically, a gun.

"Cas, why do you have a gun?" Dean asked, checking out the piece, weighing it in his hands.

"It was a gift from Balthazar. We broke up because I needed to work full time at the diner instead of part time and dropped out of college. He gave me the gun when I got the job just in case I was ever robbed. But…I don't like guns, and, surprisingly enough, I don't like violence, so I kept it in there," Cas explained. "Guess it could've come in handy, huh?"

"Yeah I suppose it would've," Dean agreed. "Do you know how to use it?"

"I do, I just don't want to have to use," Cas said. With that he fit the shoebox into the suitcase and zipped it closed. "That's everything."

"That's everything you have?"

Cas took one last look around the bedroom – he had always hated this room the most – and nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

"Alright, let's go then," Dean said, happy to be getting out of this place. He could see it was wearing Cas down with each passing minute.

As soon as they stepped over the threshold and out into the wintry sunshine, it felt as if a huge weight had lifted from Cas's shoulders. But almost as soon as it had dissipated, another one took his place. He waited until Dean had deposited his suitcase in the trunk and had settled himself back down in the driver's seat.

"Dean, where…where will I be staying now?" he asked.

The detective suddenly realized he hadn't even told Castiel his ideas. "Oh damn, Cas, sorry I meant to tell you. I was going to put you up. Is that alright?"

"Dean, you've already done that once, I really don't want to be a hassle," Castiel said, turning to look Dean in the eye, blue meeting green. "You know I…well, I can't pay board or anything. Alastair hadn't paid me for weeks before any of this happened."

"You said you used to cook on Anna's days off right?" Dean said, remembering a conversation he, Castiel and Anna had while Cas was still laid up in hospital a week ago. Cas nodded yes. "Well, why don't you just cook a meal every now and again?"

"I could do that, Dean. In fact, if I wrote you a shopping list, I could make something tonight, do you"-

"No, Cas. Tonight you're resting. And tomorrow and the next day, at least until the end of the week," Dean said starting the car and pulling out onto the road.

"But"-

"No but's Cas, you need to heal," Dean said, firmly but kindly. "I don't know what Alastair's been telling you these last…three years is it?" At Cas's mumbled, "Yes." Dean continued, "but from now on, you're under my care. And you will rest and heal. And have a grand old time on the couch watching bad daytime TV, alright?"

Cas couldn't help it, he smiled at that. Dean glanced at him and noticed the smile and he subconsciously mirrored it. He drove around to the rear of the apartment block and parked in the car park behind it. The two of them caught the elevator up to Dean's floor and entered Dean's apartment to find Sam and Jess there. Dean took the suitcase full of Cas's belongings into the bedroom while Cas said hello.

"Oh, hey guys, didn't know you'd be home so early, me and Jess were just putting together a few things for the prosecutor," Sam said, nonchalantly. He realized his mistake as soon as he saw the blood drain from Castiel's face. Dean walked back out to see a shocked Cas and a confused Sam.

"Cas, you alright?" Dean asked softly. Castiel turned to him and Dean could see the blatant fear present in his cobalt blue eyes. "What did you say to him?" he questioned his brother.

"Nothing, I just said that we were helping out the…" Sam drifted off as he realized what he'd done to set Cas off, "the prosecutor. Crap, Cas, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Dean interrupted Sam's apology by taking Cas's hand and leading him into the bedroom. They sat down on the edge of the bed and Dean could see Cas's shoulders shaking, hear his too-fast breaths. "Cas, you want to tell me why you're so scared all of a sudden?" he asked, making sure to keep his voice calm and neutral.

"I…you…you're going to press charges?" Cas stammered, he looked up at Dean, fearful eyes wide.

"We have to Cas, I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, I just…I didn't want to have to put you through this right now, when you've only just left hospital," Dean said, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. "I didn't think Sam and Jess would still be here when we got back."

"What do you mean, you have to?"

"Well…when I…when I saved you from that asshole, I did so, without a warrant," Dean explained. "Now, Sam has found a loophole in the local law that makes that okay as long as you press charges and you…"

"I what?"

"You testify," Dean said resignedly.

"I have to testify?" Cas asked, his voice shaking. "Against him?" Dean nodded reluctantly, his face a perfectly readable visage of unhappiness. "In the three years that I had to live with that man, I never once stood up to him. All of the…the things he did to me, the things he made me do, the pain and punishments he exacted, I never once said no, or complained, or defended myself. And now you want me to testify against him. In court?"

"I'm sorry, Cas, it's the only way, otherwise he walks," Dean replied, seeing the almost imperceptible flinch those last two words caused the other man.

"I don't know if I can," Cas said, his gaze falling to the floor again. Not only was his ex-boyfriend in custody, but now he was potentially going to fail the man he was staying with. Could his life get any more complicated.

"It's alright if you can't, we'll…I don't know, figure something out, but it's a while off, alright? So how about we kick out Sam and Jess, have some dinner and get some rest. Does that sound good to you?" Dean offered, his fingers finding Cas's and intertwining, a gentle squeeze telling the other man that he was here for him.

"That sounds good, Dean," Cas nodded, finding the courage to smile at the detective, while inside his stomach was tying itself in knots. He didn't know if he had the strength to even see Alastair in the flesh again, let along testify against him, but if he didn't, what would Dean do? Would he find himself without a home again? He sighed and followed Dean back into the living room of the apartment, decided that he'd just have to wait and see.

_{A.N. There you go guys! You know the drill, give me some reviews and I shall write some more!}_


	8. Chapter 8

_{A.N. And here's more! I know it's a real short one but I wanted this chapter to happen and for this conversation between Dean and Cas to occur, so now you'll find out a little bit more of Dean's backstory!_

_Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! Slycat888: Thanks, I really want to get a nice median between the two and I think it's working well! Otex: Yeah, it's going to take a while for innocent words and phrases to stop having a bad effect on Cas, there'll probably be more soon. ktravierso: your wish is my command...Mari Magda: I suppose the hug was very very gentle! We'll soon see how well Cas stands up in court, literally...MonsterV: you'll be happy with this chapter then...Linsey: thanks a bunch for your kind words! And here is some backstory! Gustin azza: yeah, Dean's good like that :) }_

**Chapter 8**

Castiel's first week out of hospital was the most relaxing week he'd had in years. Dean had given up his bed for Cas, despite Cas's protests, and allowed him to sleep in late every morning. When Cas woke up, a hot breakfast awaited him in the living room where Dean's small dining table was set up in a nook with a huge window next to it looking out onto the wintry streetscape. Then Dean would check Cas's injuries, making sure to be as gentle as possible, rebinding the ones that still needed bandages. Sam and Jess would come over, they'd share a pot of coffee and have a light lunch of sandwiches or salad. Afterwards Sam and Dean would talk privately in Dean's bedroom while Jess and Cas caught up on the couch, before having dinner.

Castiel liked Jessica. She was sweet and kind and didn't pity him or try to sympathise with something she had no experience with. She simply asked how he was and was generally more interested in his medical prognosis. He politely chatted to her during that first week, but what he really wanted to know was what Dean and Sam were talking about in private.

Finally on Sunday night of that week he summed up the courage to ask Dean. The policeman was currently making dinner for them, some kind of pasta. Alastair had never cooked for Cas, he always assumed that Cas ate breakfast after he left for work and had dinner before he got home, which was generally true. Even on weekends Cas hardly ever saw Alastair until night time, with the lawyer off meeting with his legal friends or doing something else that he didn't invite Cas to.

"What are you making?" he asked, peering over Dean's shoulder at the sauce bubbling away on the stovetop.

"Spaghetti Bolognese," Dean announced with a smile as he saw Castiel cock his head to one side, curious. "What is it?"

"I've never had spaghetti Bolognese cooked from scratch for me before," Castiel replied, the last three words only just whispered.

"Well I suppose this is a pretty special night then, huh?" Dean said, his fingers finding Cas's as he stirred the sauce. They stood there for a couple minutes until Dean squeezed Cas's hand and let it go to start cooking the pasta. Cas left Dean's side to set the dining table for dinner with knives, forks and cloth napkins that he found in a drawer at one end of the table. Then on the spur of the moment he picked up the two tall white candles that Dean had for some reason on top of a low bookcase and placed them on the table too. He rifled through the other drawer inside the dining table and found spare candles and, what he was really looking for, a lighter, and lit the ones he'd placed on the table. Then he found the dimmer switch for the living/dining room and turned down the light slightly.

Dean noticed the light dimming behind him and turned around, looking into the living room. He immediately caught sight of the nicely made up table and smiled. "Oh, Cas you didn't have to do that," he admonished lightly, with an appreciative smile on his face.

"It was worth it," Cas said, "to see you smile."

Dean gave the pasta and sauce a quick once over before walking into the now soft lighting of the dining nook and right up to Cas. He noticed Cas stiffen slightly but he raised his hands up to the other man's upper arms and stroked his tanned skin gently, feeling Castiel relax beneath his fingers.

"Thank you Cas," Dean whispered to him.

"For what?" Castiel asked, a little confused. Without warning Dean leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. At first, Cas was surprised and recoiled just a little, but a split second later he returned the kiss. Dean pulled away and ran his thumb across Cas's bottom lip.

"For that," he smiled.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and the two of them were sitting down to dinner at the dining table. Dean had pulled out a bottle of red wine and, even though Cas wasn't much of a drinker, he had to admit that it was delicious and suited the meal perfectly. After taking his first bite, Cas smiled happily.

"Dean, it's amazing," he said in awe.

"I'm glad you like it," Dean replied, smiling back. Silence took over for a few moments as they tucked into their food but Cas finally broke it with the question he'd been wanting to ask all week.

"What do you and Sam talk about when you go into your room?"

"We, uh…" Dean wasn't sure if should say. The last time anyone had mentioned it, Cas had gone white as a ghost. But he shouldn't keep things from the man, Dean decided, especially if he wanted Cas to trust him. "We've been talking about the trial."

"Oh," Castiel replied, his eyes lowering.

"Hey, Cas, there's nothing to be afraid of I promise you," Dean said reaching out a hand to gently lift Castiel's face back up.

"That's easy for you to say, Dean," Cas said, refusing to look at the other man. Dean dropped his hand and sighed.

"I guess I'd better tell you then," he said.

"Tell me what?" Cas asked, hesitantly, wary of speaking rudely to the other man.

"When I first started at the police academy I was straight out of school, nineteen years old. I started with a bunch of other guys and one of them was just amazing. Michael, his name was. He would get the top score on every written test, could run faster in track, shoot better, and take down another man quicker. We all looked up to him. And he chose me to be his friend.

"I was astonished and flattered but I was also really careful not to frustrate him or annoy him. His father was high up in the force here in Lawrence and I didn't want any bad gossip heading his way. After we finished at the academy, we both started as rookies here downtown. And that's when Michael first asked me if I wanted to take our relationship to the next step."

At that Dean ran a hand over his face, reliving these memories were always tough, no matter how many times he'd told the story.

"When we first started going out properly, he was the sweetest, nicest guy. Exactly like he'd been when we'd been just friends except even better. Then one day we were out on the beat just patrolling, making sure the streets were safe at night. A radio call came in; there was a robbery in progress one street away from us. Immediately we ran there and since he was feeling a little under the weather that night I got there first. The guy shot at me and I shot at him but he didn't dodge my bullet. Once back up arrived, Michael pulled me aside. He was so angry. Angrier than I'd ever seen him before. He was angry because I hadn't waited for him, or so he told me. Angry because he was worried I'd get hurt. I tried reasoning with him, and that's the first time he hit me.

"I was shocked but he immediately apologised, promised he'd never hurt me again. But he did. Often. And it got worse and worse. I was walking into the station saying the bruises on my face were from when a criminal had resisted arrest. Or _limping_ into the station, saying I'd fallen down the stairs. Finally one year after he'd started abusing me, Sam had visited for the holidays and witnessed Michael giving me a dressing down over something completely insignificant. He saw Michael backhand me in the face a couple times, saw his big brother just standing there taking the abuse. He talked to me later and I realized I had to do something about it. I pressed charges, testified at his trial, and it's been eight years since then. He only went to jail for about two years but I didn't really keep tabs on him.

"All I'm saying is, I know it sounds like it's the most impossible thing in the world to do, but trust me, it's not," Dean said. He reached over the table and collected Castiel's hands in his own. "And you'll have me beside you. That's another thing I'll promise you."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said, but his voice was shaky. Dean didn't know half of the abuse he'd gone through. Would he have to tell the court everything? He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind and concentrate on the home cooked meal in front of him, but suddenly his appetite was gone. He looked back up to the detective. "I'm scared."

"I know, and you have every right in the world to be," Dean said softly. "But you also have every right to justice for what he's done to you. Do you want to tell me about some of it? Get it off your chest?"

Castiel thought about it for a moment, and then looked up at Dean, kind green eyes meeting trepidation-filled blue ones. Then he nodded, yes.

_{A.N. I know. I stopped it there. WTF right. So flood it with reviews and I shall continue! I always deliver what I promise after all...}_


	9. Chapter 9

_{A.N. Hey sorry it took so damn long for this part! Been snowed under at work. Might be a slight wait for the next chapter as well, I play in a band and have a gig every night for the next three nights! But I'll hopefully be able to get some work done on Saturday (Aus time)! _

_Thanks again for all your lovely reviews! They make it so much easier to keep writing and creating! transformers001: yeah I wanted to hold out a little on Dean's backstory, and hopefully there'll be even more soon! Slycat888: arghh as soon as you say daily updates I lag haha! But yeah this is just a really REALLY busy week for me, but I can try and make some time for you awesome peeps! Guest: I figured the only way Dean could really help Cas and get close to him as fast as he has would be if he can sympathise and I like that! ktravierso: here is more and no worries! lovesreidforever: yeah bit of Cas backstory here, hopefully more coming up. MonsterV: trials are exciting haha! And yeah, adorable first kiss...MariMagda: Indeed! Otex: haha everyone loves Cas abuse and the ones that say they don't are lying...bani86: done and thank you! Friggin' Team Free Will: I know, worst person, but here is a taste of Cas backstory! Rachel: many more to come! Yeah I really wanted them to be able to connect like that. Kaili Hardman: thanks, I had a tricky time figuring out who I wanted in that part and I like Michael as the abusive ex. Gustin azza: maybe... here is more for you! Casismyfavourite: thank you! Cas is my favourite too :) Breathing's Boring: haha I know right! Everyone loves hurtCas!}_

**Chapter 9**

The two men finished their dinner and, after Dean told Cas to sit down and stop helping him clear the table, they moved to the living room couch where Cas would be more comfortable. His injuries were slowly healing but they were still hurting him immensely. His ribs ached with every breath and he didn't know how he'd be able to withstand the pain emanating from them without the painkillers Dean had bought him. His broken collarbone and arm sent hot twinges through his nerves whenever something so much as brushed them and the mending welts on his back still made him wince when a usually normal movement tugged on stitches or used muscles buried beneath still darkly bruised skin.

But, despite all of that, the couch was still far more comfortable than the hard-backed dining table chairs and he couldn't help but sink contentedly into his corner. Dean pressed a mug of hot coffee into his hands and sat down on the couch next to him. Cas took a sip of coffee and looked up at Dean.

"Where…where should I start?" he asked tentatively.

"How did you meet Alastair?" Dean questioned, kindly.

"Okay, uh…I got the job at the diner about four years ago. It was to help pay my way through college but it got too tricky making it to all of classes _and _working enough to support myself so I dropped out of college pretty quickly and started working there fulltime. The guy who owned the building, both the diner and the upstairs apartment, had been looking for someone to sell it to for ages. About a year after I started working there fulltime, Alastair comes in to check out the place with his, I don't know, real estate advisor or something? Anyway the real estate guy is telling him the place is a dump, it's small, dark, the apartment upstairs isn't very big, the diner has its regular crowd but isn't a very popular place and that it wouldn't be the best start for his investment portfolio. And then…Alastair sees me. He started talking to me, asking me questions about the diner, about the apartment, figures out I work downstairs and I live upstairs. As soon as he'd found that out he turned to his real estate advisor and told him he wanted to buy the place. The papers were pretty much signed then and there and suddenly I was paying rent to Alastair instead of the old owner," Cas explained.

"Wow, so just like that huh?" Dean asked, trying to comprehend the situation Castiel had found himself in. It really had been somewhat of a sudden one, he conceded mentally.

"Just like that," Cas echoed, taking another sip of the warm black coffee. He hoped he hadn't sounded too much like a helpless victim. He knew he had always been fairly weak, not necessarily weak of character but weak in the sense that he never wanted to cause conflict, he would rather let someone walk all over him than have a full-on, drag-out fight with them. A fight which he knew he would lose. And people just took advantage of that. Alastair had, Balthazar had to a small degree, and his father most definitely had. At that Cas stopped himself mid-thought. He'd talk to Dean about Alastair but he was most definitely not even going to _think _about his father.

He realized that Dean had been saying his name and looked up. "Sorry, I just…drifted off for a moment," he apologised, eyes immediately refocusing on the floor.

"Hey, that's alright, Cas," Dean said, leaning over and placing two fingers gently under his chin and raising his head back up. "It's not as if you're not allowed to do that."

Cas nodded, he didn't really know what to say. He was in a confusing predicament. His whole life he'd been given rules and been punished for breaking them or disobeying. And now Dean was tearing up the rulebook, giving him free will. He honestly didn't know what to do with it. So instead he just remained quiet, and took another swallow of coffee.

"When did you and Alastair start dating?" Dean asked, softly. When Castiel paused he quickly added, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to Cas."

"No, it's alright, I was just remembering…about a month after he bought the building, I'd closed up for the night and went upstairs. I remember all I wanted to do was just have a nice long shower. And while I was in the shower, Alastair let himself into the apartment and sat himself down at the dining table with Chinese takeout. When I walked out of the bathroom – luckily I had a towel wrapped around me – I got the shock of my life. He was just sitting there waiting for me, with dinner. I didn't really know what to do.

"I couldn't very well ask him to leave, he was my landlord _and _he'd brought me dinner, but at the same time, even back then, he scared me a little. He was just so…sure of himself, so confident, like everything he attempted, he always succeeded at. He didn't know what failure or rejection was because he'd never experienced it. So I just quickly got dressed and had dinner with him. It became a regular thing, he'd come over once a week, then twice, then suddenly he was coming over every night and making his intentions known. And…then he started staying over. He just…I don't know, _made _it happen. Made the relationship happen. I mean, the last thing I wanted was to get into a new relationship, I'd only just broken up with Balthazar and that had been a bad break up. But he just wouldn't let me say no."

Dean nodded. Michael had been like that. Just such an imposing figure. Impossible to tell them no, or to ask them to give you some time or space. "When was the first time he hurt you?"

Castiel swallowed, visibly shaken from the question and Dean felt guilty asking it. But he'd have to talk about these things at the trial if he wanted to see Alastair brought to justice and if he couldn't talk to Dean about them, it'd be impossible for him to tell a courtroom. Dean had gone through the same thing with his brother asking him questions about Michael's abuse. He knew how hard it was. He also knew how free Castiel would feel once he got it off his chest.

"It was a couple months into our relationship, I suppose. He hadn't hit me or anything yet but he'd certainly shouted at me a few times, gotten a little too angry over insignificant things which made me feel a little unsure of the situation, a little uncomfortable. But he'd come over one night and I could tell he was planning on staying the night. We'd…we'd had sex a few times before so it wasn't anything new, but that night I was so tired. It had been a real busy day in the diner. There'd been a car crash right on the corner – the one where the postal truck ran into the bus?" Dean nodded, remembering and Cas continued. "Anyway, the diner had been full all day with emergency people, first responders, journalists, and I was just run off my feet. All I wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep the entire next day. But Alastair wanted…he wanted to have relations," Cas said, and Dean could tell he was uncomfortable with the material.

"I politely told him no, I was too tired, during dinner when he made his intentions known. And when I told him again later on, he just lost it. He backhanded me so hard I fell to the floor. My mouth was bleeding from a split lip and I was suddenly just so scared of him. He immediately told me he was sorry, that I just…I was just so…beautiful, he just wanted me every night if he could…I just…" Cas broke off. That was always it. People were always telling him he was beautiful, his eyes were _so _blue, his lips were _so _kissable, his hair was _so _sexily tousled. It was his burden, his curse. If he hadn't been born like that he wouldn't have attracted the abuse of Alastair, the jealousy of Balthazar, the violent ire of his father…

"I'm sorry Cas," Dean said, moving so that he was sitting closer to Cas on the couch, wrapping an arm protectively around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry this happened to you." They sat like that in silence for a few minutes but broke apart when Dean's mobile phone rang. "It's my brother," he said, before answering. Cas could only hear Dean's half of the conversation but it was clear Dean was not happy with what Sam was telling him. When he hung up he turned to face Cas and the despair and anger in Dean's eyes sent a shiver through the smaller man.

"Dean, what is it?" Cas asked shakily. "What's wrong?"

"Its…the trial," Dean said, unsure of whether or not he should be telling Cas. It would break the poor man's heart. And possibly his resolve. "It's been brought forward. Alastair goes on trial in two weeks."

"What? Why? I thought the trial wasn't mean to start for another two months?" Cas asked, disbelievingly.

"Alastair got his lawyers to bring it forward," Dean said.

"But, how can that possibly help him?"

"It won't help him, it will disadvantage us. You'll still be healing from his injuries when you face him in court," Dean said.

Castiel processed the information and suddenly his world seemed to be closing in on him. Tears welled in his eyes and started falling unchecked down his face. He barely registered Dean wrapping him in what was supposed to be a comforting embrace. All he could think about was how he would be seeing his abuser again in only a couple of weeks. And that thought alone chilled him to the bone.

_{A.N. Hey guys hope you like it! Review and I'll write more! Tell me what you'd like to read or give me some constructive criticism! Either way, the more you review the more inclined I'll be to update on the busiest weekend OF MY LIFE! Love you guys! Now, review!}_


	10. Chapter 10

_{A.N. Hey guys, I am seriously SO SORRY for keeping you all waiting so long! Three gigs turned into like the busiest five months ever! But here we are back with you! This is only a short chapter yes, BUT the trial starts in the next chapter so hang tight.. it'll be all good and angsty!_

_I honestly can't thank you guys enough for your reviews! You guys are the best! Twilight684: I'm not giving up yet! PyroNeko: Thanks man! Here's your update. Kurosaki224: Thanks! I'm trying to involve more than just one theme for sure. daydae37: Thanks so much! King-of-Horror: Thank you, means so much! chgkfdgfgfkighjfy: Shit man, hope I got your name right! Dean will fix it! Or he'll try at least. CHiKa-RoXy: Haha thanks! I'm a sucker for praise lols. Kaili Hardman: Thanks and yeah, the shows went damn well! Otex: Yay! Well here's more, so sorry for the delay. MariMagda: Hmm that's an interesting point. I suppose that could feature into it somehow...ktravierso: Yes, daddy issues...They'll be coming up in due time. MonsterV: Haha I hope you didn't expire waiting for this chapter. Again, hope you like it! Gustin azza: Haha yeah, I'm such a sucker for hurt Cas, not gonna lie. Casismyfavourite: Yeah, hopefully even more backstory coming up soon. Slycat888: Thanks man! Yes we did indeed rock out. transformers001: Thank you, here's more for you...}_

Chapter 10

Castiel paced the length of the living room trying desperately to come to terms with what Dean had just said. _Two weeks? _How could he possibly face Alastair in two weeks? He'd only just been released from hospital recently. His arm would still be in a sling from his broken collarbone. His broken ribs would still be tender. Some of the deeper cuts and bruises would be half healed. _He _would only be half healed. He felt hands on his shoulders and flinched away, even though deep down he knew Dean would never be the monster Alastair was.

"Cas, please, just sit down," Dean said calmly. He made sure to keep a bit of distance between himself and Cas. He hadn't made Cas flinch in a long time. "Cas, stop, please."

Cas stopped his frantic pacing and looked up at Dean. His blue eyes were glassy. "Dean I can't do this, I can't."

"Come on, Cas, just sit down a minute, take a breath," Dean said, reaching out for the other man's hand. But Cas jerked away from his touch. Dean's heart dropped but his hopes were raised a little when Cas walked stiffly to the couch and sat down right at one end. "Just take a minute to calm down alright Cas?"

"Calm down?" Cas asked, the words were meant to be cutting but they came out as desperate. "Dean, I _can't _do this. Not like this," he said, gesturing to his still injured body.

"You can," Dean assured him. "If I could do it, you can do it."

Castiel turned to the policeman with a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose I didn't tell you the whole story earlier about Michael," Dean sighed. "Sam saw him beating me and talked me into pressing charges. But before I did that, I thought I should try and give Michael a chance to redeem himself. I guess at the time I felt I owed him that or something ridiculous. I went back to our place, we'd been living together but I'd been staying in a motel with Sam after our last fight, to talk to him. He was very calm and polite, offered me a drink and listened to what I had to say. I told him that I still loved him, but he needed help. It wasn't right what he'd been doing, but I was willing to stand by his side while he got the help he needed. I thought we were making progress and to be honest, I still wasn't overly okay with pressing charges. He was basically the boss's son and I didn't really want the whole force to know that I'd been putting up with someone like Michael for years.

"But then something in him snapped. He asked me if I loved him. I said yes. Then he asked why did I have to keep making him so unhappy. I didn't really know what to say to that, but Michael said the reason why he hit me was because I made him unhappy and beating me helped to fix it. He kept trying to force this completely fucked-up logic on me but I wouldn't take it anymore. I said to him that I didn't think we could resolve this and that's when he pulled a gun on me."

"He shot you?" Cas asked, eyes wide in shock.

Dean nodded. He pulled up his t-shirt to reveal a tanned toned stomach and pointed to an old yet angry looking scar on his side. "The bullet went straight through, didn't hit any major organs but it still hurt like hell. I remember dropping to the floor and seeing his coming towards me but I can't remember anything else. I guess I was lucky in that respect. But I wound up in hospital, I think my room was even on the same floor as yours. I forget how long I stayed there but it was a while. Almost all of the ribs on my left side were broken, my jaw was broken, my left arm was broken. And then Sam comes in asking me what I was thinking, going over to see Michael. So we pressed charges and seeing as Lawrence is a pretty quiet town and this was a pretty huge case, the trial took place about two days after I was released from hospital. I had to testify with a cast on my arm, bandages around my ribs. But I could do it."

Dean looked up at Cas for a moment. "You went through all of that hurt and came out the other side more or less whole. And you asked for help. That's the toughest thing you have to do. This next part will feel like a piece of cake."

"You promise?" Cas looked up at Dean and the policeman could still see a trace of the fear in his eyes.

"I can't promise that, but I promise you that I will be by your side the entire time. I _will not _abandon you, okay?"

Cas nodded, but deep down he felt his stomach twisting in knots. Despite hearing Dean's story and seeing the similarities between their ordeals, he still wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it.

_{A.N. Alright guys, I know it's been literally AGES since I last updated but the next chapter is the start of the trial and we know what that means. A freaking truck load of angst. Review!}_


	11. Chapter 11

_{A.N. Hey guys, I'm back! With more! Okay so I totally told you in the last chapter that this would be about the trial and it kind of is...but it kind of isn't. But trust me it's good. _

_Again thank you for your lovely reviews! King-of-Horror: Thanks! And thanks for favouriting! Twilight684: Your wish is my command...rinatheblackexorcist: True. But I'm suck a sucker for hurtCas it's not even funny. Slycat888: Consider yourself raised from perdition :P nairadarian: No worries, just have a little more time on my hands now which is awesome for this baby! Gustin azza: A truckload of angst is my favourite amount! PyroNeko: Arghh I'm the worst person. Trial will be the next chapter PROMISE. Otex: Haha consider it a summer hiatus! Or winter technically cause I live in Australia. Although our winter wasn't all that cold with 30 degree days and all that haha. MonsterV: Haha Dean's the most awesome guy ever right! darkfire888: Not a problem :) }_

Chapter 11

The next two weeks passed by almost in a blur for Castiel. Sam and Jess came back to Lawrence to help Dean with Alastair's upcoming trial. Anna came round a few times so Sam could find out everything she knew about Cas's previous relationship. Dean tried to keep Cas calm but the stress was wearing on him. He wasn't sleeping, he could barely eat, his eyes were dull and rimmed by dark circles, his cheeks were hollow, his face gaunt. And, on Saturday, two days before the trial started on Monday, he passed out cold in the living room.

Sam and Jess were sitting at Dean's table while Dean made lunch for everyone. Cas had been in Dean's bedroom trying to get some sleep and had failed miserably. He pushed himself up from the bed, his body still aching from the last time he'd been face to face with Alastair. He shuffled down the hallway into the Dean's living room. The policeman turned to see him and smiled.

"Hey Cas, how're you feeling?"

But Castiel's cobalt blue eyes were elsewhere. Sitting on top of the pile of papers on Dean's table was a black and white photograph of Alastair. It was taken the night he'd been arrested. Even in monochrome, Cas wouldn't forget exactly how Alastair had looked that night.

"Cas? You alright?" Dean asked, taking a step towards him.

Sam looked down to see what he was staring at and cursed, covering the photograph with a manilla folder but it was too late.

Blue eyes met Dean's a split second before they rolled into the back of his head and Cas's knees gave way. Dean rushed forward and caught the slight man before he fell to the floor.

"Oh my God Dean, I'm so sorry," Sam said, jumping up to help his brother carry Cas to the couch. He was startled at how light the man was but didn't say anything.

"We had no idea he would be coming out of your room," Jess said, grabbing a blanket and laying over Cas.

"It's okay guys, it's not your fault," Dean said, sighing. He looked down at the unconscious Castiel. He almost looked peaceful. "He's worn himself out worrying about the trial. He's hardly eaten anything in the last few days."

"We're doing all we can," Jess said, looking over at the huge stack of papers and folders on the table. "We've found so much dirt on Alastair, it's not funny. He's defaulted on loans, he's taken bribes. The man is dirty through and through."

"That's not really what I think Cas is worried about," Sam said, choosing his words carefully.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, he gave us as much information as he could about that night. I could tell it was hard for him to talk about it so I didn't push him too much for information," Sam explained. He looked back at Cas. The bruises on his face had almost completely healed but the broken ribs and collarbone were still slowly on the mend. "What if he's not completely innocent in all of this?"

"What the hell are you saying Sam?" Dean said. He was angry but kept his voice low so as not to disturb Cas. The man probably wouldn't wake up for a little while but he'd had such trouble sleeping that it was about time he got some shut-eye, even if he was passed out instead of asleep.

"Well, I'm not saying Cas is a bad guy. And I'm not saying Alastair is a good guy. I most definitely believe that Alastair used Castiel as a punching bag for the last couple years but what if Cas has a less than respectable past?" Sam suggested softly.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dean asked.

"It's going to be brought up in court," Sam said, resignedly. "That's what Alastair is paying his lawyer friends for. They'll be digging up any dirt they can find on him to make his story less credible."

"That's just…that's just bullshit," Dean finished unspectacularly.

"That's lawyers," Jess shrugged.

"Let's wait until he comes around then we can think about asking him," Dean said, sternly. Poor Cas had been through so much in the last couple months. That fateful morning when Dean intervened in the diner seemed at once so long ago, and, like it was yesterday. Dean sent one last concerned look to Cas before sitting down at the table to go through everything Sam and Jess had compiled.

* * *

Finally at around 8 o'clock that night, Cas regained consciousness. He groaned softly as a dull ache behind his eyes woke him up. Dean was by his side in seconds with a glass of water.

"How you feeling?" Dean asked softly.

Cas slowly swung his legs around so he was sitting on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. He gratefully took the cool glass of water that was pressed into his hands and held it to his temple.

"A little better thank you," he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

"We were worried for a little while but Jess checked your vitals. Said it was just your body's way of dealing with exhaustion," Dean explained.

"I do ironically feel rested," Cas said. He took a sip of water and set the glass back down on the coffee table.

"I know now is probably not the best time but I have to ask you something," Sam said. He pulled one of Dean's armchairs over to the couch and sat down on it. Cas nodded in response. "You've told us everything you could about your relationship with Alastair and how his abuse escalated over the years and we're so thankful you could find the strength to do that."

Dean watched a shiver go through Cas but the man nodded again in response to Sam's statement.

"But we need to know about _your _past," Sam finished.

Cas looked up and Dean noticed, not for the first time in the last two weeks, that same look of pure fear present in his bright blue eyes. "I've already told you," he said weakly.

"You've told us about your past with Alastair but we need to go back further," Sam said gently.

"You…need to know about Balthazar?" he asked, confused. He looked to Dean for help, support, _anything_, but Dean's gaze was trained firmly on the carpeted floor. He turned back to Sam to see Dean's younger brother shaking his head, no. "Then what?"

"We need to know if there is anything at all in your past that could be used against you in the trial. We need to be ready for it."

"Like what?"

"Anything that could be considered unsavoury," Sam said. "We've already found truckloads of dirt on Alastair that show many sides of his character, all of them negative. We need to demonstrate to the jury that this guy is bad inside and out and has been for a long time. And we've gone through _years _of paperwork on him. We need to know if they will find anything on you."

"Dean…I don't have to…go through _everything _do I?"

The policeman looked up to see Castiel's glassy blue eyes full of unshed tears and, hating himself for it, he put on his sternest expression, the kind reserved for uncooperative detainees and nodded. "You do. I'm sorry Cas. We _need _to know. We can't afford to be surprised in court."

"Please…I can't do that…"

"You have to Cas," Dean pressed.

"Please…"

"There's no other way around it."

Castiel took a deep, shaky breath and, as tears started rolling silently down his face, he told them. Told them about his father who would beat him almost every other day for the most minuscule of infractions. Told them that the only reason he was allowed to finish high school was so Child Protection Services wouldn't take him away from his father and press charges on the man for abuse. He told them about how for a year he worked as a hustler in the next town over, trying desperately to collect the funds he needed for a college degree he would eventually drop out of after running out of money. He told them about how his whole life he had only ever tried to make ends meet but was met with violence from the very people who should have shown him kindness.

When he finally finished Cas felt a weight lift from his shoulders but when he finally raised his eyes from the floor to meet Dean's, the policeman looked away. The weight returned tenfold when Cas realized that this man, whom he'd come to think of as his saviour and, possibly, someone who could actually love him for who he was, might never look at him the same way again. Who was he to think that someone as good and respectable as Dean could ever put up with someone who had failed in almost every conceivable way? Cas put his head in his hands as the tears kept coming. Sobs wracked his lean body and his still-healing broken ribs and collarbone cried out in agony. He barely noticed when the couch dipped next to him.

He flinched slightly when an arm wrapped protectively around him. He'd been so lost in the past, he'd expected a punch, a kick, the sting of a leather belt, but this touch was soft and comforting. He raised his head to see Dean sitting next to him.

"If it is the last thing in this world that I ever do, I will make sure no one ever hurts you again," he whispered. "That I promise you. You have not deserved _any _of the pain that has been inflicted on you. And if I can, I will find these people and I will make them atone for what they've done to you."

All Castiel could do was nod in return, he was too emotionally exhausted for words. But, once again, that weight came off his shoulders as quickly as it had settled there. The next few weeks would be like reliving the hell he had experienced in the last few years. But if he had Dean next to him, Cas was starting to think that he could actually survive it.

_{A.N. So some questions answered about Cas's past. Who wants more? REVIEW!}_


	12. Chapter 12

_{A.N. Here it is the beginning of the trial! Again thank you so much for the reviews, sorry the chapter is a little short, but come on, I like HAD to end it there! You'll see more soon!_

_slycat888: Yeah hopefully sometime soon the story will allow me to kind of go into it more. Just wanted to give a taste for now...PyroNeko: Thanks! Here's the next chapter for you now! nairadarian: Thank you so much! Hope you keep enjoying it! Twilight684: Yeah he's had a rough time, but a hurtCas story wouldn't be one without a considerable about of hurtCas! Gustin azza: Here's mooooorrreeee!}_

Chapter 12

Monday dawned cold and grey. It was late winter and the air was still icy when Dean and Castiel left Dean's apartment building early that morning. They would be meeting Sam and Jess at the courthouse before the trial began at 10am. Both Dean and Cas were dressed in suits but while Dean's black one showed off his muscular figure, Cas's old navy suit was too big on him. He still had to keep his arm in a sling to prevent any damage to his collarbone and his movements were still stiff from his injured ribs.

They walked slowly down Lawrence's main street, crossing the road so they didn't walk past the shuttered windows of the diner Cas had worked at. They stopped on the way and grabbed two takeaway coffees before arriving at the courthouse which was two doors down from the police station. The two men stayed silent the entire way. Cas didn't trust his voice to remain steady and Dean didn't trust his words to keep his charge calm. They met Sam and Jess outside the courthouse, Dean's brother wearing a stern dark grey suit and Jess in a sensible black dress.

"You ready Cas?" Sam asked tentatively. His first instinct was to rest a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder but his brain told him not to.

Castiel nodded, not speaking a sound.

"You're ready to testify?" Jess asked.

Cas nodded again. Another hurdle wrangled by Alastair and his lawyer cronies – Cas would have to testify first. That was brought to their attention the previous day and had almost given Cas a mental breakdown again. But Dean helped him through it. Like he'd help him through this ordeal.

"I'll go easy on you but you need to be able to tell the judge and jury _exactly _what that man did to you," Sam had said the day before. "You'll have to give details."

"I can do it Sam," Castiel had said. His words were firm but his voice was shaky.

The clock tower's bell across town started chiming and the group walked inside. The courtroom was almost completely empty. The entire case had been kept quiet. Alastair had wanted to alert the local newspaper but Judge Murray and the DA hadn't allowed it for the safety and sanity of Castiel.

Sam, Dean, Cas and Jess sat down at the very front of the room behind a long desk. The bailiff walked in with Alastair and Dean felt Cas flinch beside him. The door behind them slammed open making Castiel jump again and in filed three men and one woman wearing black suits – Alastair's lawyers. Next came the twelve jurors, six men and six women. The whole courtroom stood for Judge Murray's entrance and the trial was officially started.

"Castiel Novak, please take the witness stand," Judge Murray intoned in his deep, gravelly voice.

Cas took a deep breath and shakily got to his feet and walked to the witness box, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Sam stood up to start his examination. They went through mundane topics to begin with, when Castiel had first started working in the diner, when he'd first met Alastair, the first time Alastair had surprised him with dinner. Cas was doing well until Sam's line of questioning came to that almost-fatal night.

"How did the conversation between you and the accused start?" Sam asked.

"I…uh…he…" Castiel stopped and took a breath. They had reached the part he was dreading to talk about. "He had asked me about the policeman, Dean, when he got home. I was cleaning up the diner and it was the first thing he said when he walked in, had I seen that policeman again."

"You're talking about Dean Winchester?" Sam gestured behind him to his brother and Castiel nodded.

"Yes, Dean Winchester. I told him that I had seen Dean lately. I told him that Dean had told me a few things that had made me think about our relationship. He…made some joke about how he didn't know I was capable of thinking, some mean joke about my intellect and I got angry. I said he couldn't say those things to me, it wasn't right. Then I said he shouldn't hit me either. He asked me if Dean had told me that and I…I said yes. Then he hit me, backhanded me across my face. I fell to the ground and he kicked me in the ribs. He started screaming at me, I forget exactly what he was saying but he kept intimating that Dean and I had started having an affair," Cas continued.

"Had you?" Sam asked.

"No, not at all. Nothing had happened between us at that point. We had only ever talked."

"Then what did the accused do?"

"He grabbed the front of my shirt and threw me towards the door that leads up to the apartment while he pulled out his keys. I remember thinking that I'd probably already broken a few ribs judging from the pain that I could feel here," Cas said gesturing to his midsection. "He unlocked the door and grabbed my shirt again and started dragging me up the stairs. That's when Anna came into the diner. She had left something there and came back to retrieve it I guess. She called the police."

"What did Alastair do to you then?"

"He…uh…he kicked me around a bit more then he tore off what remained of my shirt. He…" Castiel's mouth went dry and he swallowed thickly before continuing. "He pulled out his belt and started lashing my back with it. I don't really remember much else to be honest after that point. I remember the pain on my back and I remember finding it almost impossible to breathe but then it all goes black."

"Thank you, Mr Novak. The witness is yours," Sam said to Alastair's lawyers.

The woman in the dark suit stood up, her face seemed pretty but her eyes were so hard and unforgiving her stare made Cas shrink back involuntarily in his seat. "Mr Novak, I'm Meg Masters. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Starting with Naomi. Naomi White. You might remember her, you worked for her for about a year saving up money for college. Would you like to tell us what line of work that was?"

Meg held up a photograph of a brunette woman with a stern face, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. It was his pimp from years ago when he'd had to sell himself on a corner to make enough money to survive. Castiel's heart dropped and his mouth went dry. He felt like he was going to be sick. They were going to start with _this? _

_{A.N. Hope you guys like it! Sorry if there's any typos, tots wrote it quick so you guys could read it sooner! REVIEW!}_


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